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Writer’s Night

There’s a cowboy and a Texas maiden
Kissing in a hilltop silhouette
First he rescued her from stagecoach robbers
Now they’ll ride into a red sunset
Then the scene dissolves into a daydream
And a loner leans back in his chair
Listens to the night cos when he’s typing
It’s as though that cowboy’s really there

And he’ll lose himself inside his novel
Where a lonesome heart can hide
And he’ll taste the glory, he’ll become the story
On another writer’s night

There’s a soldier stepping off a Greyhound
Weary from a long, courageous fight
Friends and fam’ly cheering on the sidewalk
Banner hangin’ from the old stoplight
Then a shadow pauses at his keyboard
Pours some Pepto-Bismol in his rum
Let’s a wishful dream complete the picture
Of the things he’s never done

And he’ll lose himself inside his screenplay
Where a lonesome heart can hide
And he’ll taste the glory, he’ll become the story
On another writer’s night

There’s a singer in a large arena
People dancing in the aisles again
Lighters flicking in the smoky darkness
As he sings a song he didn’t pen
While an old songwriter down in Memphis
Sings the same song to an empty room
Watches as the barkeep lights a Camel
Closes up and waltzes with his broom

But he’ll lose himself inside his music
Where a lonesome heart can hide
And he’ll taste the glory, he’ll become the story
On another writer’s night

©2009 Robert George