• Poets, the hands of the lord
    Creatures with too much soul
    Each word is like a chord
    And their thoughts they can’t control

    You can try, oh you can try
    To save those lifeless pages
    But to write you can’t deny
    To poets of all ages

    I tried, oh how I tried
    To save those poor empty pages
    But my hands, they would cry
    If I didn’t let them touch those pages