The Singer Barbra Streisand

In a small café
On a crowded night
In a spot of light
Stands the singer
And the band begins
And the beat is strong
And the room belongs
To the singer
All the people turn to hear
The sad refrain
And catch the cry of pain
That's in his song
But in his haunted face
And in his searching eyes
There's sign that something's wrong
Now the eager crowd
Hangs on every word
But the sounds are slurred by the singer
Till the people feel every aching part
Of the broke heart of the singer

Still the song goes on
About a love e knew
That seemed so sure and true
But turned out wrong
And from the tears he shows
Nobody really knows
Is he the singer or the song?
Is he the singer or the song?