• Lend me your ears and I'll tell you about,
    A greater man than I.
    If only I'd witnesses the wisdom in his voice,
    The truth that was in his eyes.
    His gift was his music and he played it so well,
    The sound could have carried you away.
    But you know the story of the wolf and the lamb,
    And I'm afraid this one tends that way.
    And his sweet melodies will no longer be,
    Sung where we can hear them.
    And a cold wind blows and I sing to the crows,
    And it grows dark on the Hudson.

    His story begins like so many other's before,
    Living on hope's and dreams.
    His future laid out like the promised land,
    Or at least that's how it seemed.
    An eager young soul in a brave new world,
    Steps softly into the dark.
    With a beautiful mind and a violin,
    Ready to make his mark.
    But his noble endeavor didn't last forever,
    And now together we cry.
    And a cold wind blows and I sing to the crows,
    And it grows dark on the Hudson.

    From what I've seen, it seems to be,
    That it always goes this way.
    No matter how sacred no matter how solemn,
    Trust will be betrayed.
    Just a question for the one's who did this,
    How on Earth could you,
    With a smile on your face, crush a man's spirit,
    For lack of something to do?
    Thank's to your lies, those broken glass eyes,
    Could only cry for so long.
    And a cold wind blows and I sing to the crows,
    And it grows dark on the Hudson.

    When every door is locked and every bridge is burned,
    And you've run out of places to turn to.
    Sitting in yourself with the fire all around,
    i'm just saying that I don't blame you.
    To say it plain you had to stop the rain,
    And you cast your pain into the water.
    And a cold wind blows and I sing to the crows,
    And it grows dark on the Hudson.

    Now we're left all alone with,
    Whispers and guilty glances.
    We wonder where we left our humanity,
    As the front line of fate advances.
    What have we done and what have we become,
    To drive such a man to such ends.
    Is it really too late to find a little heart,
    Too late to make amends.
    After all what's liberty, if you're not even free,
    To be who you really are.
    And a cold wind blows and I sing to the crows,
    And it grows dark on the Hudson.

    After all of these years, all the deaths, all the tears,
    It's time we wake up and see.
    That just because you're not quite the way I am,
    Doesn't mean you're any less than me.
    We need to come together and love one another,
    Cause you know we're all we've got.
    And that may not be a Cadillac or that house on the hill,
    But it's still an awful lot.
    If we take of one another, like sister and brother,
    Well, in other words,
    All the winds will have blown, and all the crows will go home,
    And it will never again grow so dark on the Hudson.