In the leaves, someone spotted a fruit -- a fruit --
And knocked it aground with a swing -- with a swing --
This song speaks of one who stayed mute -- stayed mute --
And never found out he could sing -- he could sing.

Perhaps he and Fate were at strife -- at strife --
Or perhaps he'd a dispute with God -- with God --
But the resonant string of his life -- his life --
Was laid across frets that were flawed -- that were flawed.

He started shyly with a "do,"
But, all too quick, he let it go.
His chord rang sweetly but fell flat,
And faded wholly in a trice,
A dog was barking, while a cat
Was chasing mice…

Absurd, is it not absurd?
His song forever stayed unheard.
He never left the starting line,
He never ran, he never raced,
He never drank his cup of wine,
He never even had a taste…

He was just coming in through the doors -- the doors --
He'd just settled into his role -- his role --
And the droplets of sweat from his pores -- his pores --
Glinted clear with the light of his soul -- his soul.

He'd just stepped out onto the floor -- the floor --
He was learning the rules of the game -- the game --
And the judge hadn't opened the score -- the score --
And the crowd was just learning his name -- his name.

So many gifts he'd never reap,
He'd never delve into the deep.
He'd never let his flags unfurl,
He'd never touch the stars, above,
And her, his One, his dear, his girl,
He'd never love! He'd never love! He'd never love! He'd never love!

Absurd, is it not absurd?
How many an unspoken word,
Behind his lips, forever hid?
He rushed -- he hurried -- but in vain,
And everything he never did,
Would evermore undone remain.

What could have been, we'll never know -- never know --
We can play but the cards that we're dealt -- we're dealt --
He might've written her odes in the snow -- in the snow --
It's too bad that the snows had to melt -- had to melt.

For the last days of winter were nigh -- were nigh --
Gone, the freedom to write in the snow -- in the snow --
And the flakes drifting down from the sky -- from the sky --
He swept from his eyes on the go -- on the go.

He chased her silver-gilt landau,
It seemed he'd be in time, but no --
He was too late and, in a beat,
He stood alone upon the track,
And snow fell in a silken sheet.
Oh how absurd when seconds lack…

Absurd, is it not absurd?
An open sky, but not a bird.
Absurd, is it not absurd?
You laugh in genuine delight,
An empty sky, but not one bird:
A halted flight. A halted flight…