The Songwriter.
Ev'ry time I write a song
The lyrics turn out wrong
The melody don't ‘melod' like it should
So I tinker with each word
‘Til each vowel and note are paired
But, the song still ends up sounding like it should... n't
As I struggle with each syllable
On a blank page - oh, so fillable
My mind explodes, beneath my thinking cap
Then my heart begins to pound
As I chop and change each sound
‘Til... "it's finished...! "
Still it ends up sounding... Pap!
Why can't it be me...?
Why must it be McCartney...?
Why is the kudos not mine?
Instead of that schmuck - Hammerstein...?
Mr Porter, what can I do?
I just wanna be like you.
Night and Day, these pages I'm fillin'
So, God willin', I'll end up like Dylan.
Ev'ry time I chew my pen
Then chomp an' chew again
The thought, emotions, feelings swell inside
As I try to make some sense
It's just no coincidence
That before too long, I need another pen
As I tackle ev'ry verse
Things just go from bad to worse
I sometimes make up words that don't exist
As I try to make them fit
It just sounds a load of... garbage
So I open up the whisky and get... drunk
Deep down in my heart
I wanna be like Lionel Bart
Make that journey from page to stage
That Lloyd Webber fills me with rage
To who can I turn?
Mr Newley teach me to learn
I just need that break maybe then an'
My songs will be bigger than Lennon...
Maybe not...
Ev'ry time I write a song
The lyrics turn out wrong...
As I struggle with each syllable
On a blank page - oh, so fillable
It's increasingly clear to see...
Maybe... there's no songwriter... in... me...
by Frank Jones