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