The Poet [Can't Jam] - Born Ruffians

I like a warm embrace

I like a pretty face

The smell of lemon, thyme, ginger, rosemary

Ah, my favorite things

I line ‘em up

I put ‘em all down upon a shelf

I watch them all collect dust

I lose my touch again

Don’t quote me, I’m just a bad poet

I can’t fly

I can’t walk

I can’t swim

I can’t talk

I can’t sing

I can’t dance

I can’t rap

I can’t jam

But ooh, look at my tasteful use of metaphors

I think up things you never ever heard before

I can see an idea that’s been around a corner hiding

Useful to attentive listeners

Borderline exciting

The best day of your life

It has come and gone

The bags under your eyes, too big for carry-on

I’m a tired boy, an empty void

A favorite song to sing along

I get along with everyone

I have a good time whenever I go out

But don’t quote me, I’m just a bad poet

I can’t fight

I can’t pray

I can’t riot

I can’t obey

I can’t see

I can’t preach

I can’t wake up

I can’t sleep

But ooh, look at my tasteful use of metaphors

I think up things you never ever heard before

I can see an idea that’s been around a corner hiding

Useful to attentive listeners

Borderline exciting

Ooh, it wears off after a day or two

Or gets absorbed into collective conscience

Added to a big pile

Or more like a hole that’s mined

From time to time to verify one has a soul

But uh

I can’t act

I can’t paint

I can’t teach

I can’t bank

I can’t laugh

I can’t dream

I can’t find the god damn things