The Folk Singer
Johnny Cash Lyrics


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As I walk these narrow streets where a million passin' feet are before me
With my guitar in my hand suddenly I realize nobody knows me
Well yesterday the motor toots screamed and cried my name out for a song
Now the streets are empty and the crowds they go on home
With the rain on my face there's no place where I belong
And my whole life consists of a story of poem at a song
Now the truths I've tried to tell you are as distant as the moon
More than hundred years too late two hundred years too soon
I'm a child of the sage Lord's been in the pages of a book
But when I'm dust and clay where other people stop and to look
And will they marvel and miracles and perform into the high size to the spider




Oh will they take the pages of the book to light of fire
With the rain on my face there's no place where I belong

Overall Meaning

"The Folk Singer" is one of Johnny Cash's most introspective songs. The lyrics describe a musician walking down the streets, carrying his guitar, realizing that nobody knows him. Yesterday, people were screaming his name out for a song, but now the streets are empty and the crowds have gone. The guitar becomes too heavy, and there is no place where the folk singer belongs. The song passionately captures the plight of an artist struggling to connect with his audience and find a place in the world.


Johnny Cash wrote "The Folk Singer" in the late 1960s when he was feeling disillusioned with the music industry. The song appeared on his 1970 album, "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash." The lyrics express his feelings of isolation, despair, and frustration with the commercialization of music. The song is a reflection of the times when the folk music movement was at its peak, and many musicians were trying to escape the lure of fame.


Line by Line Meaning

As I walk these narrow streets where a million passin' feet are before me
I am walking down a busy street with thousands of people passing by, but no one recognizes me or knows who I am.


With my guitar in my hand suddenly I realize nobody knows me
I am holding my guitar and feeling a sudden realization that no one in this bustling crowd knows who I am.


Well yesterday the motor toots screamed and cried my name out for a song
The day before, people were cheering and calling my name for a performance, but today the streets are empty and silent.


Now the streets are empty and the crowds they go on home
The once busy streets are now completely deserted, and everybody has gone home.


With the rain on my face there's no place where I belong
With the rain pouring down on my face, I feel a sense of loneliness and disconnection from the world around me.


And my whole life consists of a story of poem at a song
My entire existence is centered around the stories and songs I create and perform, which define who I am.


Now the truths I've tried to tell you are as distant as the moon
The messages and truths I have tried to convey through my music are seemingly unreachable, as far away as the moon in the sky.


More than hundred years too late two hundred years too soon
I feel as though my words and messages are either too late or too early to be fully embraced by society, as they are not in line with the current beliefs and values of the world.


I'm a child of the sage Lord's been in the pages of a book
I am someone who tries to capture the wisdom and teachings of great spiritual leaders from throughout history, as they are passed down through written texts.


But when I'm dust and clay where other people stop and to look
When I am nothing more than dust and dirt, some people may stop to remember my music and my messages, but most will simply pass me by without a second thought.


And will they marvel and miracles and perform into the high size to the spider
I wonder if people will remember me as someone who brought about change and inspired great feats, or if my impact will be as small as that of a spider towering high above them.


Oh will they take the pages of the book to light of fire
I fear that after I am gone, people may disregard the wisdom and messages I have conveyed through my songs, and simply use the book to light a fire.


With the rain on my face there's no place where I belong
Throughout all of this introspection and wonder, I still feel isolated and disconnected from the world, and my sense of belonging remains elusive.




Contributed by Jack H. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Anonymous


on Wayfaring Stranger

Wayfaring Stranger - The New Appalachians - Lyrics

I am a poor wayfaring stranger
Traveling through this world alone

There will be no sickness, toil or danger
In that grand land to which I roam

Well I'm going home to see my mother
I'm going home to a morning rose
I'm only goin' over Jordan
I'm only goin' over home

Musical Interlude

I know dark clouds will gather 'round me
I know my way is rough and steep
And beautiful fields lie just before me
Where God's redeemed there vigils keep

Well I'm going home to see my brothers
I'm going home no more to roam
I'm only goin' over Jordan
I'm only goin' over home

Musical Interlude

I'm going home to see my Father
I'm going home no more to roam
I'm only goin' over Jordan
I’m only goin’ where no one roams

I want to wear that crown of glory
When I get to that good land
I want to shout out salvation story
In concert with that blood washed band.
I'm going there to see my saviour
I’ll see his face no more to roam
I'm only going over Jordan
I'm only going over home
I'm only goin' over home

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