On the corner of the boulevard

In the night, in small spectacles

He polishes old coins

He uses spit and cloth and ashes

He makes them shine with ashes

He knows the use of ashes

He worships God with ashes.



The coins are often very old

By the time they reach the jeweler

With his hands and ashes

He will try the best he can

He knows that he can only shine them

Can not repair the scratches

He knows that even new coins have scars

So he just smiles.



He knows the use of ashes

Dum da de da da dey dey

He worships God with ashes

Dum da de da de de da de dey dey.



In the darkness of the night

Both his hands will blister badly

They will often open painfully 

And the blood flows from his hands

He works to take from black coin faces

Thumbprints from so many ages

He wishes he could cure the scars

When he forgets he sometimes cries.  



He knows the use of ashes

Dum da de da da dey dey

He worships God with ashes

Dum da de da de de da de dey dey.

He knows (he knows the use of ashes)

He knows

He knows (he worships God with ashes)

He knows

He knows (he knows the use of ashes)

He knows (Dum da de dad a dey dey)

He knows (he worships God with ashes)

He knows (Dum da de dad a dey dey)

He (he knows the use of ashes)

He

(He worships God with ashes)