| She had nothing to say
|
| She had nothing to say
|
| «Well, that’s a start,» she thought to herself
|
| And she picked up her pen and the small notepad
|
| And she laid down on her bed
|
| Paralyzed, she held the pen
|
| Oh, maybe eight millimeters from the page
|
| For at least a half an hour
|
| And then she thought to herself
|
| «Oh, who am I kidding?
|
| I know I have nothing to say.»
|
| She wanted to throw the pen away
|
| No, she wanted to take a hammer
|
| Pound the pen into her skull
|
| Blood gushes out like Old Faithful
|
| World engulfed in a red sea
|
| The final flood
|
| No, screw the pen
|
| Keep the hammer
|
| Get a chisel
|
| Sculpt away at the skull
|
| Reveal the ivory woman in agony
|
| Hidden within
|
| «No, screw those ideas,» she said
|
| «I'm just gonna write,» she said
|
| «I don’t care if I got nothing to say
|
| I’m just gonna scribble away
|
| Until I find something»
|
| Yeah, but she’s crossing out every other word
|
| She knows she’s not fooling anybody
|
| She knows she has nothing to say
|
| Just like me |