Poet’s Day lyrics
by Cass McCombs
Hot on your own lusty heels
You trampled Elysian Fields
Like a false witness conceals
A Poet content with his skill
You held the muse against her will
Made mountains out of molehills
Your lust did not stop there
Every dream was a nightmare
But, ah- this is how a Poet prepares
Prone to exaggerate
Prone to exaggerate
It’s Poet’s Day
Every laugh, every cry
By exaggerating made you high
You might as well have told a lie
Like the theme of the Mare’s Nest
“excitement over what does not exist”
Is how the rest of the day was p*ssed
p*ssing Off Early Today
Is English for P.O.E.T.’s Day
And my, does an Englishman exaggerate!
Prone to exaggerate
Prone to exaggerate
It’s Poet’s Day
A feeling of euphoria
Intoxicated by your gloria
A resurrected Victorian
Over wine you would compete
With other Poets on Mission St
Who could make words taste most sweet
Prone to exaggerate
Prone to exaggerate
It’s Poet’s Day