I didn?t even know the man
I didn?t know the man himself
Even though his music filled my life
As it has so many others
I knew that he had died that week
After fighting death a year or more
But I had had a rule before
That funerals were a waste of flowers
But something said I had to go
To be a witness to his gift of love
A man who never once gave up on life
Until death took him in its tracks
The people stood around the church
Ten thousand people there they say or more
Black and white and rich and poor
Together they were there to say farewell
In New York City it had rained that day
The streets were silver and the sky was gray
In the church the music sailed and sang
And seemed to fill the air with shining sun
The man was a hero
He played the music of our souls
He knew that we all have in us
A place where beauty always grows
Outside in the streets again
The people wandered through the falling rain
They waved their hands and dried their tears
And turned to go about their lives again
But none of us will be the same
If we hear the things his music says
That loving is the gift of life
And making music was his way of love
The man was a hero
He sang the music of our souls
He knew that we all have in us
A place where beauty always grows
Always grows