| What would it sound like if you were the songwriter
|
| And you made your living off of me?
|
| Would you detail your near-constant consternation
|
| With the way my very presence makes your muses up and flee?
|
| Goodbye, little songbird, I can leave
|
| Goodbye, my love, is there anything else you need?
|
| What would it sound like if you were the songwriter
|
| And you did your living around me?
|
| Would you undress me repeatedly in public
|
| To show how very noble and naked you can be?
|
| Goodbye, little songbird, now you’re free
|
| Don’t forget I’m the only fan of yours
|
| Who has the sense to ever leave you be
|
| How could you do this to me?
|
| What would it sound like if you were the songwriter
|
| And loving me was your unsung masterpiece? |