Inspiration escapes me.
I feel I'm wasting all my time.
Picked up my pen at seven,
And now it's half past nine.
Got a blank page staring back at me.
I'm struggling with my rhyme.
Now I'm sitting here with a flea in my ear.
I'm coming to the end of the line.

Imagination evades me,
Run me ragged all day long.
I always have this problem
When I'm writing a country song.
My concentration laughs at me
When I think I'm doing fine
Then I sit in my chair and pull out my hair,
I think I'm coming to the end of the line.

I try to relax, breathe slowly
And have a cup of herbal tea.
But I just can't relax knowing
That my brain is up there laughing at me.

Realisation hits me,
That I've been writing down all of these words.
I've got a chorus and two verses
And now I'm half way through the third.
I shouldn't get so wound up.
Just keep the pen moving all of the time.
If I keep my ass in the chair, it will take me there
Write until the end of the line.

Just have to relax, breathe slowly,
Have a cup of herbal tea.
I don't have to drink it.
That stuff is just revolting to me.

Relax, breathe slowly.
I hope you are all smiling with me.

02/25/2008