Well, he's up on that hill, under the troubadour moon He spins in circles nobody can see But he'll never get played and so he never got paid And now the people, they get everything for free But he doesn't need a son, and he doesn't need a reason Because he never wed the girl in California Never fled somewhere a little warmer Never thought he'd be living in a bedsit now Never bought the second home in Paris Never saw the aurora borealis Never get to see his face on a billboard now Under a troubadour moon But he's living hand to mouth He's pulling night shifts when he can It's a bitch when you find out you're just an ordinary man Well, he's up on that hill, under a troubadour moon He's writing songs no one will ever hear And as soon as he's done, the guitar says, \"We've got another live one\" Clairaudients hear music loud and clear And when the bottle is done, he opens up a new one Because he never played to 20,000 faces Never get to rub shoulders with the greatest Never get to reach legendary status now Under a troubadour moon