Millionaires and paupers walk the hungry streets

Rich and poor companions of the restless beat

Strangers in a foreign land

Strike a match with trembling hand

Learn too much to ever understand

But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady

Lover's quarrel, snarl away their happiness
Kissed crumble in a web of lonliness
It's written by the poison pen
Voices break before they bend
The door is slammed
It's over, once again
But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady

Poets agonize, they cannot find the words
And the stone stares at the sculptor asks