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Day: March 5, 2006

Songwriter Blues

A songwriter walks on the slimmest of threads
to balance what’s in his heart versus his head;
sometimes, random thoughts will inspire him to sing
words that aren’t about his life or any damned thing.

Emotions in motion, a mood for a day,
the lines on the page don’t relate any way
to the life he’s living and good things he’s found;
sometimes in the looking glass things get turned ’round.

A song’s inspiration can come from nowhere:
a phrase from a movie, the shape of a chair;
from someone singing the line as you write
imagining your song is their song tonight.

Your loved ones imagine you’re talking of them,
and take your songs personally, now and again;
they don’t understand it just don’t work that way,
and feel hurt no matter what else you can say.

Sure, my life is in every song that I write,
some more and some less, some real heavy, some light;
but I’m not my lyrics, my poems or verse.
I work in third person, for better or worse.

A song about leaving don’t mean I must go;
one that says I’m brilliant does not make it so.
I’ve got songs from good times, and others from bad,
and some drawn from thoughts someone else might have had.

A songwriter balances truth with a dream,
and finds hell and heaven, and points in between
where honkytonk angels and demons are poised
to drown out his voice with the tiniest noise.

05 MAR 2006

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How Many Times?

for Johnny Cash

How many times must I repeat
the same old tired line?
How many times can this old heart
be broken and be fine?
It doesn’t take a genius to opine
the odds are bound to take a sharp decline.

How many times must substance
take a backseat behind style?
How many times can a good man
walk down that extra mile?
The calculations need not take a while;
no need to note an entry in some file.

It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you,
but I’m getting tired
of waking up each morning
feeling old and uninspired;
There’s just an empty feeling
in my heart that’s like a hole,
and a longing for something that’s
out of my control.

How many words should be too many
spoken out of turn?
How many matches must we strike
before we start to burn?
It doesn’t take a brilliant man to learn
the law about diminishing returns.

How many lies will we both tell
before we face the truth?
How much of careless, foolish love
is wasted in our youth?
It doesn’t take too much to find the proof
that some foundation must hold up the roof.

It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you,
but I’m getting tired
of waking up each morning
feeling old and uninspired;
There’s just an empty feeling
in my heart that’s like a hole,
and a longing for something that’s
out of my control.

05 MAR 2006

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