Lyrics

I COULD USE A NEW MUSE
Staring down . . . at my eighty-eight keys.
They just can’t spark the fire inside of me.
I am trite. I am tame. All my songs sound the same.
My field has gone to seed.
But I know what I need.

I could use a new muse.
Someone to light the fire that died with our romance.
Your eyes were open when we kissed.
The birthday dinner that you missed.
The pretty boy you favored with a longing glance.

Now I drink absinthe straight.
I meditate to clear my head of our affair.
My verses have no story, my choruses no glory.
Now I sit and write another bridge to nowhere.

I don’t need a face that launched a thousand ships.
Don’t need an angel or a starlet.
I’d settle for a jezebel, a femme fatale – oh what the hell
I’d even take a diva with a fifth of good tequila.

She’ll be fine with half the sparkle in your eyes.
A sprinkling of your cultured charm.
She doesn’t need your beaming smile, your gracious walk, your artful guile.
If she’d pick me off the floor and nudge my body out the door.

When I choose my new muse,
I’ll sing a song of faithful love with no adieu.
But ‘til my perfect muse arrives
I’ll sit in gloomy smoke-filled dives.
Bent over in my chair, trying not to care.
While I write another bridge to nowhere.