You Can't Sing, You're Ugly, and the Sixties Are Over

I was hanging around in the subway
 Waiting for the train to go home at the end of the day
 When a raggy baggy love child of the sixties
 Whipped out an acoustic guitar and he started to play
 His hair was long, his beard uncombed
 And it seemed from the smell that the man hadn't bathed in a week
 He sang "Love makes the world go round"
 I said "What are you man, some type of a geek?"
 I said, "You can't sing, you're ugly, and the sixties are over"
 But he just kept on wailin' and whangin' on his thing
 I said, "You can't sing, you're ugly, and the sixties are over"
 He said, "I may not have money, but at least I've got a dream"
 I said, "What is this dream of which you speak?
 Gotta tell you, it sounds like a nightmare to me!"
 He said, "Someday everyone on this platform
 Will all join hands and sing in harmony"
 And as he said these words, everybody
 Stopped what they were doing, looked up, and they all turned around
 Yeah they turned to face him, joined hands,
 Opened their mouths, and the subway tunnel was filled with the sound
 They said, "You can't sing, you're ugly, and the sixties are over"
 But he just kept on wailin' and whangin' on his thing
 They said, "You can't sing, you're ugly, and the sixties are over"
 He said, "I may not have money, but at least I've got a dream"
 They said, "You can't sing, you're ugly, and the sixties are over"
 But he just kept on wailin' and whangin' on his thing
 They said, "You can't sing, you're ugly, and the sixties are over"
 He said, "I may not have money, but at least I've got a dream"