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 its tracks The people stood around the church Ten thousand people there they say or more Black and white and 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 gray In the church the music sailed 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 sang the music of our souls He knew that we all have in us A place where beauty always grows Always grows