Poethearted

Poor poor poethearted, out produced and way outsmarted
Short of tools for sure
Oh you poethearted, you dream like an engine but you never get started
What's all that paper on your floor?

And you wonder how it got dark in here
Cause you took the light for a given
And you wonder how she got dead in her bed
As if life just keeps on giving
Back to the living

Poor poor poethearted, the rules of play have been disregarded
Turns out there's no such thing as fair
Oh you poethearted, gnash your teeth and tear your hair out
Like some Shakespeare character

And you'd be taken much more seriously
If you'd stop telling stories at the bar
And I might even read what you wrote for me
If you'd stop with the binary star

Poor poor poethearted, you've been denied your magna carta
Or any hope at history
Oh you poethearted, you only love the big uncharted
It's so much smaller than you're born to believe

If I tell the truth, I worry for you
In between your radio stations
When it comes down it will come down hard
As the emptiness meets your great expectations