Lyrics
We enter in through automatic doors
Into the everyday race across the terminal floor
Past the shoe shine, past the magazine stand
The winners win a ride, and it all begins again
But over in the corner, as we come and go
The fiddler's tuning up and tightening his bow
'Cause every day he descends to this maze underground
He raises his violin and summons its sound
The arias echo down the long tunnel halls
He creates a cathedral from the subway walls
And a distance light arrives through windows
wrought in melodies that we had long forgotten
So who has the money or the time to waste, oh
To drop a dollar in this old instrument's case
Backed with billboards of panoramic views
Illuminate new ways to make old wishes true
And as these dreams and deadlines take us by the eyes
Into our aching ears, the fiddle softly cries:
"Have you ever seen the still moon in the middle of the day?
Or felt the raindrops falling might be calling you astray?"
Come away to the window, hear a song so slow
From the fiery clouds reflecting on the avenue below
Oh, beckoning hope and a sermon of notes and rest with every stroke:
"Let the earth be blessed!"
So who has the money or the time to stay, oh
To stop and listen to this old musician play
Who has the money or the time to remain
Who can afford to miss the next subway train