Summing it Up is the Monday Meme

I was over at Jessa Slade’s blog and found this:

Find a song that sums up what you think it means to be a writer and post the lyrics on your blog and why you’ve chosen it. It doesn’t have to be your favourite song, it just has to express how you feel about writing and/or being a writer. It can be literal, metaphorical, about a particular form or aspect of writing – whatever you want.

It doesn’t have to be writer/writing. Pick anything you want.

I’ll go first.

Paperback writer

Paper back writer (paperback writer)
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It’s based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer,
Paperback writer.

It’s the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn’t understand.
His son is working for the Daily Mail,
It’s a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer,
Paperback writer.

Paperback writer (paperback writer)

It’s a thousand pages, give or take a few,
I’ll be writing more in a week or two.
I can make it longer if you like the style,
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer,
Paperback writer.

If you really like it you can have the rights,
It could make a million for you overnight.
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer,
Paperback writer.

Paperback writer (paperback writer)

Paperback writer – paperback writer
Paperback writer – paperback writer

Okay, I might be overstating.

Your turn.

One response to “Summing it Up is the Monday Meme

  1. Losing It by Rush (partial lyrics)

    The writer stares with glassy eyes
    Defies the empty page
    His beard is white, his face is lined
    And streaked with tears of rage.

    Thirty years ago, how the words would flow
    With passion and precision,
    But now his mind is dark and dulled
    By sickness and indecision

    And he stares out the kitchen door
    Where the sun will rise no more…

    Some are born to move the world
    To live their fantasies
    But most of us just dream about
    The things we’d like to be
    Sadder still to watch it die
    Than never to have known it
    For you, the blind who once could see
    The bell tolls for thee…

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