4 years ago5,000+ Views
Today's influx of music-inspired poetry comes from Lyric of the Day #3:
"Cause my heart's become a crooked hotel full of rumors,
But it's I who pays the rent
For these fingered-face out-of-tuners
And I make sixteen solid half-hour friendships
Every evening"
Whispers sneak in under creaky doorways
speaking rumors, riding like trash talk at a truck stop
I'm paying for it, dime by dime, investing more money'n time
Half-hour friendships with needy needlers,
lookin for scraps, begging at my heels
Remindin' me how much pain I still feel
Every evening, late at night, rocketship to the sky
Early morning, can't even try
I've got no brains left to fry
1 comment
loved it