(With more than a nod to Waylon Jennings)
It's the same old tale, pencil on paper.
Where do we take it from here?
Melodrama and tear-jerking capers,
We've been the same way for years.
Things need to change.
Somebody told me when I first got printed,
Son, you finally got it made.
Old Poe made it this way, we're all sure that you will,
But I don't think Poe done it this way.
I don't think Poe done it this way.
Ten books down on paper, written with bloody hands,
Typing my whole life away.
Tell me one more time just so I understand,
Are you sure Poe done it this way?
Did Ole Poe really do it this way?
I've seen the world through a cheap flat screen
staring right back at me.
Writing my tales and reading some of his,
But I don't think Poe done 'em this way.
No, I don't think Poe done 'em this way.
1 comment:
I don't know how to think about writing any more. Once I had a plan. It never came to fruition. Now I have an urge, and some afterthoughts.
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