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