I found another one of these gems in my old notebooks. I had an awesome record collection as a teenager and young adult. Remember how you could just sit in your room and listen to music and not have to do anything else? Or was that just me?
Song Is Over
Just like the wind that blows past
So the music will not last
The muse, the poet, both are dead
Their words are locked away inside our heads
When the notes fade away
There will be nothing left to say
And like the death of a dear old friend
So it will be when the music ends
What is there left for us to do?
When that old, sad song is through
When the melody is gone
And the words linger on
Can we sit and sing to ourselves?
And save the words in books on shelves