image borrowed from bing
“I’ll get by with a little help from my friends.”
acoustic guitar, repeat chords, soft strumming.
Tired of winter, tired of ice I say,
Just can’t wait for a better day.
electric guitar, hot licks with reverb.
Tired of my job, tired of feeling
nothing, out of balance, reeling.
snare drum solo.
Tired of those arguments with my wife,
tired of struggling with my life.
cello bowing with long sobs.
Tired of all those aches & pain,
tired of having to walk with a cane.
saxophone & bright piano.
Getting tired of waiting for that big windfall,
facing uncertainty, back against the wall.
spanish guitar, flamenco licks with castanets.
Can’t open my eyes without a jolt of caffeine,
then the withdrawal, getting cranky & mean.
harmonica huffing train-like slides.
Tired of climbing all those damn stairs,
tired of sitting on all my broken chairs.
saxophone & clarinet duet.
Tired of being envious of the rich,
tired of searching for the witch.
cello & violin string riffs.
Just tired, man, way way down deep,
pissing all night, a stranger to sleep.
harmonica & blues guitar slide.
Tired of billionaires telling me, hey,
work harder to build a better day.
six-string guitar blues double slide.
I know I should be thankful while waiting
for my 70th year, should not be just hating
jazz brushing over a clarinet line.
those who have more, have accomplished more,
who keep sending our children off to war;
juice harp twang over trombone slide.
but those fat cats really make me mad,
cuz I do miss what I never really had.
base guitar throbs.
Hell, I’m just like you, just getting old,
tongue gets sharper, my words grow bold.
lovely piano line.
I guess it’s comforting to be a poet,
just patting up the row before I hoe it;
harp plucking over violin.
Cuz all my bitching doesn’t mean a thing,
no money in the mail, no bells to ring.
sitar chord over accordion line.
I am actually thankful for having a strong voice,
living in a land where I have more than one choice.
acoustic guitar, soft chords.
I tell you, folks, it’s great now to be retired,
it was tricky working 50 years without getting fired.
harmonica lullaby over a long sad train whistle.
Posted over on dVerse Poets MTB
Would you like to hear the author read this Lyrical poem to you?