Untitled - Josh Woodward

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

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