Listening to Murdoch and Dylan and Cohen

So tonight

I wrote this song for you

And I sang it quiet

And I sang it low

The closer I wanted to come

Was every step I took away

And every smile tonight

Struggles to me from afar

You think no one understands

Like I don't understand this guitar

But I'm going to take lessons

And learn six flamenco chords

To set every poem to

And these poems won't be for you

Most of the time

Maybe you should cry

A little

Maybe you should try

A little harder

Maybe I should shake my head

and swear this is the last song

I write for you

Except the ones

I won't admit are

So I'm trying to put it right

So I can love you with my heart

But all this trying has twisted

Me tight

Maybe I should walk away

Maybe that's a start

I'm so tired

But I can't sleep

More than my usual four hours

I try to find a voice

That doesn't leave these poems

Like shadows of you

I try to find a voice

That's entirely mine

I want to write the heart songs

For the dreamers like me
But you don't really care for music
Do ya?
Whatever else you may have thought
I only did what I was taught
And even though it all went wrong

And I'll never see the Lord of Song

I sang it once, my imperfect little

Hallelujah