The Life of a Poet discussion

5% HAPPY AND 95% SAD

The man who cuts my hair in his tiny shop
Located just beside the local Spar.
He reads Proust and Philosophy and lent me a few books
Said they help to make him think his day away.
He smiled as he handed them over to me
A mouth that moved but eyes of staring grey

He hid it so well but I was looking at a man
Who was five per cent happy and ninety-five per cent sad

She works in a 1960 red brick soulless office
Entering forgettable data and never speaks a word
Her daughter showed me photos of her in 1970
As an actress in her native Baltic State
She smiles a smile that oozes long-past beauty
Once a dreamer but now the dream is far too late

She hid it so well but I was looking at a man
Who was five per cent happy and ninety-five per cent sad

The man who pushes the trolley on the morning train
Told me he once worked as a mechanical engineer
He had lost his way in the early recession
And can’t afford to move back to his native south
He told me expected to get back to it someday
As he opened and closed a barely speaking mouth

He hid it so well but I was looking at a man
Who was five per cent happy and ninety-five per cent sad

When there are no dreams left to dream or hope for
When there is no longer any place left to play
When they still press on in endless toil
When the reward is just to be alive another day

So how can you tell me you are fed up with life
So how can you tell me there is nothing here for you
When you are in a position that still knows hope
While my barber, actress and train man strive to cope

sounds like it would be a good song if it were put to music.

interesting you said that, I wrote it after listening to a song! Clue: a 1974 song

I'm not very good with song titles or artists... but what was it, I may have heard it before.