MUSES WHEN THEY GO AWAY

Muses When They Go Away

Sitting at this keyboard with no melody in sight

No lyrics fill my troubled mind, my mouth just won't sing right

I got no thoughts worth thinking, no tales that I can tell

I could lie to you 'bout Heaven but the truth feels like I'm in Hell.

There's a broken record playing but it's so scratched up I don't know

What the blues man still is moaning but he's howling out my woe

There's a baby crying somewhere that his folks can't put to sleep

And I know just how he's feeling 'cause Lord knows I want to weep.

If I could, I'd make the sun shine, if I could I'd make it bright

But the dawning day didn't show up and now all I have is night

There's a raven at my window, there's a wolf out side my door

There's a silence drowning out the music that I can't hear anymore.

Since the love has gone from my life, since the life's gone from my love

I can't feel the hand that fit my hand like a hand that fits a glove

And my every waking moment and my every sleepless night

Is filled with songs that I can't sing and songs that I can't write.

(Lord, what's wrong with me? Tell me, what is wrong with me?

My Muse is gone and I'm all alone and there's no good that I can see

Lord, what's wrong with me? Good Lord, what's wrong with me?!

If you give me back my music, you can do what you want with me.)

There was a time I filled the pages with a thousand pretty words

There were songs I sang for the pretty girls and my heart knows that they heard

There were all those nights of love and all those days of joy

Now I walk the street on my wandering feet, just a bruised and broken boy.

My guitar sits there by itself, just leaning on the wall

The flute, the drum, the violin lay where I watched them fall

I hear them calling out to me like lonely little friends

But I cannot play them 'cause I don't know the way this sad song ends.

Where do Muses go where they go away? Where does the music go to die?

Is there a place down deep where they go to sleep or a sweet space in the sky?

If I could, I'd write about it, if I could, I'd sing a song

But every note I'd play would just go astray and the words would come out wrong.

If there's still one thing I'm sure of, if there's still one thing I know

That as much as I need your sweet love, that I need to let you go

As my fingers touch the keyboard and my voice rises in my throat

I feel the song rush through me and I'm amazed at what I wrote.

(Lord, what's wrong with me? Tell me, what is wrong with me?

My Muse is gone and I'm all alone and there's no good that I can see

Lord, what's wrong with me? Good Lord, what's wrong with me?!

If you give me back my music, you can do what you want with me.)

Do what you want with me

You can do what you want with me

Send my Muse back with her music

And you can do what you want with me.

Want with me....want with me
Do what you want with me........

Send my Muse back with her music

and do what you want with me................

©by Voo

Aug 29, 2016

10:26 p.m.

written just now

on this keyboard

on this blog


For my friend Twayne
the guitar man