No Poetry

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John T. Wurzer

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There is no poetry in my eye tonight only lust and an unwillingness to bend
As for those who said it never could be done this way
I guess we'll have to correct them in the end
You with all those sparkles at the edges of your eyes
And a teardrop balanced on your upper lip
Tear me away from solitude and I will peel my eyes off of your hips

So send a bitter tear this way
I'm thirsty for that kind of inspiration
There is no poetry in my eye tonight
Inspiration is indefinitely on vacation

There is no music in my head tonight; only a silent cold unwillingness to sing
And as for those who bet nobody could shut me up
Well I guess I don't owe them anything
All creative thought was stolen from a mind you drilled a hole into
I try to speak but I can't even find my throat
You vex me and perplex me; your sex appeal, it rocks like a boat

So send a bitter tear this way
I'm thirsty for that kind of inspiration
There is no poetry in my eye tonight
Inspiration is indefinitely on vacation

There is no poetry in my eye tonight, nor in my voice, or in the motion of this pen
I've tried to write, but alas good-night; inspiration has escaped me once again

So send another beer this way, I'm hungry for to drift away
And tune my wavelength to a different station
There is no music in my head tonight
The songs have all gone to some unknown destination... just like a lost generation

There is no poetry in my eye tonight only lust and an unwillingness to feel
And as for those who said it never could be done this way
I guess they ate up all the words at their last meal

As for those who said it never could be done this way
I hope they ate up all the words at their last meal

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