The Web
The Web
After awhile, it all seems the same
Every job offers a wage
All the clubs offer a stage
The only thing changing is my age
Music that once fluttered indignantly
Has been chained inside a cage
Originality costs a fortune, I can't pay
And nothing, no nothing, stops the rain
The caliber of product rusts away
To bed, to sleep, artistry is laid
O what things we'll do to get paid
Anything just to live another day
Sitting in a window
Screens against the world
Spins a web, a widow
Twisting as it twirls
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