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After twelve years she
Had nothing to say,
It won't I, I eye aye.
Dee dah dee dah dee
Can you make sense
Of that, well, neither
Can I, you see.
I divorced my guitar
I didn't get far,
Before it was back
By the bar, so many
Times I've thought
Of selling her,
For something I
Needed, really bad,
Like rent, or electricity.
It really makes me sad
To even think about it.
But times are tough
And I'm getting colder
And the road and stage
Are just a bit colder
Than when last I gigged.
This election looks like
It just might be rigged
And without electricity
There's really no need.
But I just couldn't bring
Myself to do it, at least
Not this time, maybe.