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Josh Woodward
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Untitled
I sat down
With a sharpened pencil in my hand
You were in my head and I had planned
To write you into verses, and
Immortalize all your virtues for a hundred years to come
And then I thought
About our tiny little history
You once had you struck me as a mystery
Now I wonder what I used to see
And now this empty paper's screaming that
You're just like all the rest
Oh oh, oh oh, untitled
Oh oh, oh oh, untitled
You were real
Yeah, I swear I thought I knew you
But now my eyes just stare right through you
And I don't think I can blame you
Yeah, I saw what I was looking for, and pushed aside the rest
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But I was wrong
No, it's not like you're an ogre
It's just you're bland and mediocre
I am drunk and you are sober
This song won't ever write itself and so you best be on your way
Oh oh, oh oh, untitled
Oh oh, oh oh, untitled
Easy come...
It's not like art's some kind of charity
I guess a true muse is a rarity
The kind that gives your mind the clarity
To leave that empty page behind
Oh oh, oh oh, untitled
Oh oh, oh oh, untitled
I'm stuck without a spark of pain or joy
I feel nothing, nothing
I'm stuck without a spark of pain or joy
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