For All The Days My Muse Called In Sick

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It begins so collectively uninspired, pieced together with broken notes,
Lost in meaning, meandering off the course,
Left for nothing, it dies alone,

We sing for songs that never play,
Left for nothing, they die alone,
We sing for songs that never play,
Left for nothing, they die alone,

That’s the price I pay, carelessly bleeding thoughts,
Fragmented tales left still untold,
In the end, it’s the work you’ve done, not your plans,
What you leave behind never unfolds,

We sing for songs that never play,
Left for nothing, they die alone,
We sing for songs that never play,
Left for nothing, they die alone

Track #7 on Make MusicProduction Notes

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