I Could Use a New Muse

I COULD USE A NEW MUSE

Staring down . . . at my eighty-eight keys

They can't spark the fire inside of me

I am trite

I am tame

All my songs sound the same

My field has gone to seed

But I know what I need

I could use a new muse

Someone to light the fire that died with our romance

Your eyes were open when we kissed

The birthday dinner that you missed

The pretty boy you favored with a longing glance

Now I drink absinthe straight

I meditate to clear my head of our affair

My verses have no story, my choruses no glory

Now I sit and write another bridge to nowhere

I don't need a face that launched a thousand ships

Don't need an angel or a starlet

I'd settle for a jezebel, a femme fatale – oh what the hell

I'd even take a diva with a fifth of good tequila

She'll be fine with half the sparkle in your eyes

A sprinkling of your cultured charm

She doesn't need your beaming smile

Your gracious walk

Your artful guile

If she'd pick me off the floor and nudge my body out the door

When I choose my new muse

I'll sing a song of faithful love with no adieu

But 'til my perfect muse arrives

I'll sit in gloomy smoke-filled dives

Bent over in my chair, trying not to care

While I write another bridge to nowhere