The Poet and The Muse

The poet and the muse The tears of beauty The tears of art Its the death of the poet that tears us apart Its the death of the muse that makes us remember life Life is not a rainbow As the sky is the eyes The sky remains blue The world remains gray But the poet and the muse is what keeps us sane The beauty of paper The beauty of notes Is what makes the world go around Is what gives us hope As the poet and the muse continue their blues We cheered, we sang, about our lovely day The poet in a chamber The Muse is in chains Their hands turn into bone As they write away The poet and the muse Their desperate beg of views That the world is dark They're the light But tonight is the night The world begins to fear The poet and the muse. The poet and the muse How I wish I could have sense Your terrible blues.