The one man band broke up
Due to creative differences, the one man band broke up
And everyone mourned the passing by passing along
Oh fuck a simple requiem
For the moments in the dusty record bins once live in by kings
Now grave yards for grave stars that will never reign again
These deserts full of fractured limbs and scattered instruments that can still sing like kids
Erupting into nothingness and the abyss in dim
I remember when you kept time with a bass drum
And while your left foot played all your melodies, a harmonica, a banjo
When you put an old hat out for the crowd
Passersby wearing suits and ties tried to hide
But they couldn't possibly deny your banshee cries
Five decades in the wishing well
Only waiting for someone to toss a pale, or a life vest, or some type of help
But your body failed, and your mind failed, and your career fell into oblivion with the rest of your peers
Loving what you did, only got you so far through these years
The moral of the story is, no one really gives a shit
But don't cry for the swatted flies, they loved what they did