The Frustrated Writer
The frustrated writer
Sitting at his table
Waiting for his muse to come
The days hinge on one thing
One thing to remind him
One thing to inspire him again
But the story takes its toll
Breaks his soul
Leaves him nothing
To lean on the tragic side
Of the frustrated writer
And the story takes its toll
Breaks his soul
Leaves him nothing
To lean on the tragic side
Of the frustrated writer
In the morning you'll be gone
Take his soul
Leave him something
To stand on the tragic side
Of the frustrated writer
She came in on a cool breeze
And drifted out of one scene
A kiss that once involved you escaped
And the story tooks its toll
Breaks his soul
Leaves him nothing
To lean on the tragic side
Of the frustrated writer
In the morning you'll be gone
Take his soul
Leave him something
To lean on the tragic side
Of the frustrated writer
The frustrated writer
The frustrated writer
The frustrated writer
El Escritor Frustrado
El escritor frustrado
Sentado en su mesa
Esperando a que su musa llegue
Los días dependen de una cosa
Una cosa para recordarle
Una cosa para inspirarlo de nuevo
Pero la historia cobra su precio
Destroza su alma
No le deja nada
Para apoyarse en el lado trágico
Del escritor frustrado
Y la historia cobra su precio
Destroza su alma
No le deja nada
Para apoyarse en el lado trágico
Del escritor frustrado
Por la mañana te habrás ido
Llevándose su alma
Dejándole algo
Para sostenerse en el lado trágico
Del escritor frustrado
Ella entró con una brisa fresca
Y se desvaneció de una escena
Un beso que una vez te involucró escapó
Y la historia cobra su precio
Destroza su alma
No le deja nada
Para apoyarse en el lado trágico
Del escritor frustrado
Por la mañana te habrás ido
Llevándose su alma
Dejándole algo
Para apoyarse en el lado trágico
Del escritor frustrado
El escritor frustrado
El escritor frustrado
El escritor frustrado