Dave Frishberg Follow

This is my swan song, it's a weary and wan song.
It's the final cry of a dry imagination,
It's the terminal croak of a broken concentration,
It's the end of the line, my ultimate destination;
My been here and gone song, my swan song.

This is my last song, my flag at half mast song.
It's the work of a brain in a circuit of blown out fuses
While I'm trying in vain to invoke my used up muses.
Now it's all that remains of my dried up creative juices,
My "call Forest Lawn" song, my swan song.

Once I popped them out like waffles
The good ones and the awfuls
A new one every day. But now
I find I'm uninspired, my wig's no longer wired
I've nothing left to say...
But I'll say it anyway.

This is my new song, my long overdue song
It's the last flip-flop of a wobbling top that's spun down
It's the weak tweet-tweet of a parakeet at sundown
It's the last tick-tock of a clock that's finally run down
My dreary and drawn song, it's a weary and wan song,
My been here and gone song, my swan song.

© Dave Frishberg