More from the Muse
Listen baby,
I’m gonna pack up
and move on.
This ain’t working for me any more.
I can’t get any sleep with you
banging away like that
and even a Muse needs his rest.
And the bed is always full of paper scraps and pens.
Damn near poked my eye out last night with that pen.
Stop beggin’ baby.
You're like an addict.
Stop crawling. And don’t lick my toes.
You’ll find no inspiration there,
only toe jam.
What’s a matter with you?
You’re on your own now, girl.
© 2008 Birdstory Publications
I’m gonna pack up
and move on.
This ain’t working for me any more.
I can’t get any sleep with you
banging away like that
and even a Muse needs his rest.
And the bed is always full of paper scraps and pens.
Damn near poked my eye out last night with that pen.
Stop beggin’ baby.
You're like an addict.
Stop crawling. And don’t lick my toes.
You’ll find no inspiration there,
only toe jam.
What’s a matter with you?
You’re on your own now, girl.
© 2008 Birdstory Publications
posted by Bird | 9:08 AM
3 Comments:
when
the muse
gives you toe jam
make toast
¤ ¤ ¤
/t.
Now THATS a blues song.....
Cj
if all you get is toe jam, then you must search for who gives you toe peanut butter
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