The Brown, Broken Sofa
On this brown, broken sofa
Here with my lonely guitar
Looking around in empty space
Orange is my only surroundings
Writing you songs about life
Or maybe about hopeful love
And even of my life's struggles
So many lyrics in my thoughts!
Out of these crowded alleys and corners
I'm nothing but a street guitar player
But I'm not of the penniless kind
For my melody will be the world's harmony
I could be pondering on a train station
Or alone in the dark, hidden roads
But my solace of my own success
Will be coming from a broken sofa
Don't be mistaken about this
For the sofa is not actually broken
What I really meant about this description
If the sofa was full of failures and loneliness
But all is not lost in my solitary life
Because my guitar is my true love
It's my endless passion of my feelings
And makes this street guitar player hopeful
This brown, broken sofa I'm lying on
The sorrows of struggles will be gone
You've kept my secrets and dreams
In which my success is great because of you
No matter where I travel in the world
Or the many people cheering around
From street guitarist to global music artist
I'll remember my true origins of my talent
Here, along with my lonely guitar
I go back to this small, orange space
Taking a long rest from my endless melodies
Brown, broken sofa... I now close my eyes
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