To the man who writes the music in my head
Did you retire? Were you fired?
Did you skip out on your rent?
Did you go crazy? Just get lazy?
Did you meet the perfect lady?
Can you tell me where you went?

Furthermore, I’d like to ask for your advice
I know a girl who still believes that she’s
In love with “Mr. Right”
He’s unfaithful, its disgraceful
And she always lets it slide
Now she don’t even put up a fight

And I was hoping you could tell me what it means
To be alive when you survive what happened
Down in New Orleans I’ve seen the news, and im confused
Cause its grey where once was green
Bad news don’t seem that “new” to me

To the man who writes the music in my head
Are you tired, uninspired?
Did you lose your favorite pen?
Did you overuse your muse
Can you steal one from a friend?
It’s time we started singin again