I do this sometimes. All critiques are welcome. Seriously, let’s piss all over this one; I should be ashamed to have written it. Enjoy!


Sometimes The Songs Write Themselves

The lyricist picks up his pen tonight

And scours his brain for something to write

Something that’s clever, and nothing too trite

Hopefully something that’s happy and light

But sometimes it’s an impossible task

And the melancholy takes a firm grasp

And out pours a simile like a poisonous asp

And bites at the breast like a wound from the past


Whoa now here’s the refrain

C’mon let’s song it again

The heart that keeps beating

And keeps on repeating

Returning like an old friend


And the memories all flood back in

Like the ink that he spilled in his gin

And he watches the black dot spreading so thin

In the glass that he poured for this evening’s sin

And he’s haunted by all the things he recalls

And the beasts all climb up and over his walls

While his pen aches to bleed and the paper still calls

And he stares at the empty white lines and he stalls


Whoa now here’s the refrain

C’mon let’s song it again

The heart that keeps beating

And keeps on repeating

Returning like an old friend


The evening is all but a loss

And this paper will likely get tossed

But the memories shackle his brain

Of the ones that he’s loved and he’s lost

The last verse didn’t make sense and he knows

Inspiration eludes him and his drunkenness shows

Like the smell of the ink-blackened gin to his nose

And as soon as anything comes, then it goes


Whoa now here’s the refrain

C’mon let’s song it again

The heart that keeps beating

And keeps on repeating

Returning like an old friend


The lyricist sighs and calls it a night

The feeling was there but it put up a fight

Maybe tomorrow he might get it right

But he puts down his pen and turns off the light


Whoa, this ain’t the refrain

Nothing to sing back again

Even old friends must die

And tell you goodbye

And all songs come to an end. 

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