| The one man band broke up
|
| The one man band broke up
|
| Due to creative differences
|
| The one man band broke up
|
| And everybody mourned the passing by passing along
|
| Oh fuck a simple requiem
|
| For the moments in the dusty record bins once lived in by kings
|
| Now graveyards for great stars that will never reign again
|
| These deserts full of fractured limbs and scattered instruments that can still
|
| sing like kids
|
| Are rotting into nothingness and the abyss is dim
|
| I remember when you kept time with the bass drum pedal
|
| While your left foot played organ melodies…
|
| A harmonica…
|
| A banjo…
|
| When you put an old hat out for the crowd passersby wearing suits and ties
|
| tried to hide
|
| But they couldn’t possibly deny your banshee cries
|
| Five decades in a wishing well
|
| Only waiting for someone to toss a pail
|
| Or a life vest
|
| Or some type of help
|
| But your body failed
|
| And your mind failed
|
| And your career fell into oblivion with the rest of your peers
|
| Loving what you did only got you so far through these years
|
| The moral of the story is
|
| No one really gives a shit
|
| But don’t cry for the swatted flies
|
| They loved what they did
|
| The moral of the story is
|
| No one really gives a shit
|
| But don’t cry for the swatted flies
|
| They loved what they did |