Текст
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 his tracks
The people stood around the church
Ten thousand people there, they say, or more
Black and white, 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 grey
But in the church the music soared 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 played the music of our souls
He knew that we all have in us
A place where beauty always grows
Перевод
Я даже не знала этого человека
Я не знала его самого
Хотя его музыка наполняла мою жизнь
Как и многие другие
Я знала это он умер на той неделе
После борьбы со смертью год или больше
Но у меня раньше было правило
Что похороны - это пустая трата цветов
Но что-то подсказывало, мне пришлось пойти
Быть свидетелем его дара любви
Человек, который ни разу не отказался от жизни
Пока смерть не застала его врасплох
Люди стояли вокруг церкви
Десять Говорят, там тысяча человек, а то и больше
Черные и белые, богатые и бедные
Вместе они пришли, чтобы попрощаться
В Нью-Йорке в тот день шел дождь
На улицах было серебро, а небо было серым
Но в церкви музыка парила и пела
И, казалось, наполняла воздух сияющим солнцем
Этот человек был героем
Он играл музыку нашего души
Он знал, что в каждом из нас есть
Место, где всегда растет красота
Снова на улицах
Люди бродили под падающим дождем
Они махали руками и вытерли слезы
И снова вернулись к своей жизни
Но никто из нас не будет прежним
Если мы услышим то, что говорит его музыка
Что любовь - это дар жизни
И создание музыки было его любовью
Этот человек был героем
Он играл музыку наших душ
Он знал, что в каждом из нас есть
Место, где всегда красота растет
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