An Honest Poet's Life Is Full Of Care

Now to myself this comes as some surprise
I’m sitting writing here a tuneless song
My rusty hand’s in need of exercise
For I’ve been far too lazy for too long

In honeyed indolence I’ve spent my days
I’ve watched the changing colours of the year
I’ve watched the passing seasons through a haze
And so my memory may not be clear

I smoke a spliff and sip at my champagne
A poet’s life is not an easy one
A little sunshine and a lot of rain
Is hardly my idea of having fun

The layman sadly seems so unaware
An honest poet’s life is full of care.