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Poems Written With A Borrowed Pen

Words and Music by Tom Paxton

Holdin' on till the morning comes,
Holdin' a mug between two thumbs,
I´m gonna pay for this coffee with some awful nerves.
Writing the same old lines again,
Using a borrowed ball-point pen,
The poet mostly gets the poem he deserves.

But poems written with a borrowed pen,
Won´t bring you back to me again, oh darling.
I´m stuck here for the rest of my life, oh darling.
It´s so hard without you, day by day by day.

Thinking about the best of times,
Didn´t we hear the midnight chimes?
Didn´t we grow together? Didn´t we have it all?
Sometimes life can seem insane,
You woke up in a little pain,
Next thing the head-nurse wakes me with a midnight call.

And poems written with a borrowed pen,
Won´t bring you back to me again, oh darling.
I´m stuck here for the rest of my life, oh, darling.
It´s so hard without you, day by day by day.

A hundred times a day I do familiar things.
I start to read the paper and the telephone rings.
I listen for your footsteps, wondering who it can be,
Then the pain comes down like a blanket, there´s no-one here but me.
There´s no-one here but me.

Reading the papers through again,
Trouble for the president´s men,
Revolutions out there, shaking the old regimes.
Spilling coffee on the table top,
I know these tears have got to stop,
I know they see me as a man who lives in his dreams.

But poems written with a borrowed pen,
Won´t bring you back to me again, oh darling.
I´m stuck here for the rest of my life, oh, darling.
It´s so hard without you, day by day by day.

A hundred times a day I do familiar things.
I start to read the paper and the telephone rings.
I listen for your footsteps, wondering who it can be,
Then the pain comes down like a blanket, there´s no-one here but me,
There´s no-one here but me.

Holding on till the morning comes,
Holding a mug between two thumbs,
I´m gonna pay for this coffee with some awful nerves.
Writing the same old lines again,
Using a borrowed ball-point pen,
The poet mostly gets the poem he deserves.

But poems written with a borrowed pen,
Won´t bring you back to me again, oh darling.
I´m stuck here for the rest of my life, oh, darling.
It´s so hard without you, day by day by day.
It´s so hard without you, day by day by day.

Thanks to Jan for the transcription!


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