Wrote an opera of a boy in dread, Calls his mama, says, “I shot him dead,” The choir gasps, the stage won’t fade, I’m stuck inside the part I played. Oh, the blank page hums again, Static laughter in my brain, Oh, the blank page hums again, I strum the void and miss the train. Zombie twistin’ with a pelvis spin, Lost his beat but kept his grin, I tried to rhyme it, rhyme ran off, Left me moonwalkin’ through my scoff. Oh, the blank page hums again, Static laughter in my brain, Oh, the blank page hums again, The chorus drools and feels no pain. Imagine a fool with a peace parade, Paints the dawn but the hues decay, He dreams no wars, no flags, no guns, Then sells his dream for smaller ones. Oh, the blank page hums again, Static laughter in my brain, Oh, the blank page hums again, The dream dissolves like acid rain. But I will survive this writer’s ache, Tore down my doubts for my own sake, Don’t come back, dear empty line, You and I, we crossed the sign. Hey, you, yeah, you with the headphones tight, This song was born from my losing fight, But if nonsense breathes and hearts contrive Then hear me loud: I will survive. Oh, the blank page hums again… Oh, the blank page hums again… Oh, the blank page hums again… And you… still listening, huh? Can’t resist watching a drama in stereo!
