Over there beyond the village
Stands an organ-grinder,
And with numb fingers
He plays as best he can.
Barefoot on the ice,
He totters here and there,
And his little plate
Is always empty.
No one listens to him,
No one notices him,
And the dogs growl
Around the old man.
And he just lets it happen,
As it will,
Plays, and his hurdy-gurdy
Is never still.
Strange old man,
Shall I go with you ?
Will you play your organ
To my songs?
I was introduced to the song cycle through this final song in an analysis class I took while working on my doctorate. The music is as bleak as the words and fits it perfectly. It follows a strict strophic form (same music for each stanza), which one would expect when you envision an organ grinder playing the same music over and over again.
Here's a beautiful version done by Ian Bostridge and Julius Drake. They've done the WHOLE song cycle this way and they're all amazing to watch.