Writer’s Blues

Landlady’s been knocking at my door
She’s screaming for rent
And a little bit more.

Blood’s what she wants
Me thinks it true.
I’m ten days late,
And a hundred too few.

But I’m waiting on editors
A publisher or two,
I need a contract
And a check would do.

Don’t you guys know
I’ve financially tanked
What’s a writer to do,
But rob a bank?

Electric man says
he wants his money
We don’t even have soup
Now ain’t that funny.

Oh my god
The lights are out.
Can’t get a loan
And I’m out of clout.

I’m going to make it,
I know I will,
If I could just work my fingers,
And get rid of this chill.

A thousand writers
They’re doing the same.
I know there’s a chance
I’ll win the game.

Got writer’s blues
Rejections are in,
Still I write
Eating out of a tin.

I’m going to make it,
I know I will,
If I could just work my fingers,
And get rid of this chill…

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