The Spanish Lady

All my songs are waving goodbye
They are trailing behind them a smear of rage
I am thinking with the mind of someone twice my age
I'm an all-singing, all-dancing thing that died
And nothing but nothing is going as planned
As I walked with sweet Sally, hand upon hand

I wanted to write up but could only write down
With my hunter dogs I walk round town
I'm swallowed by the city and lose my way
And pass by a window and suddenly see
A Spanish lady washing her feet by candlelight

And this was absolutely not part of the plan
But I'm suddenly alive and half my age
An all-singing, all-dancing horror on stage
Who never wanted for nothing, just a little bit more
As my dogs devour me to a hashtag of gore
I wanted to write less but could only write more

This song is waving to you with its busted crutch
I am lost and tired and completely out of touch
But I am something, I guess, that just keeps going on
As I walk with sweet Sally, song upon song