When I read this post at protein wisdom, I wanted to break into song:
Looking out at the words rushing out of my keys
Looking back at the commas gone by like so many speakers’ fees
In ninety-one I was sophomore in English 101
I don’t know what my point is now, I’m just running onRunning on – running on sentence
Running on – running fine
Running on – running outta thoughts
But I’m writing more linesGotta fluff what can when you’re paid for each word
Trying not to cut your check by up to two thirds
By twenty-nine, I was pundit one and I called the Web my own
I don’t know when those clause ran into the clause I’m onRunning on – running on sentence
Running on – running fine
Running on – running outta thoughts
But I’m writing more linesEverything I know, everything I type
People keep on reading my low tripe
I don’t know about anything but me
I can go all night, that’ll be all write
If I can get me a book deal before I leaveLooking out at the words rushing out of my keys
I don’t know how to tell you all just how badly this verb feels
I look around for editors I used to turn to shut me up
Looking into their cubes I see them running tooRunning on – running on sentence
Running on – running fine
Running on – running outta thoughts
But I’m writing more linesBuddy you really stet me
You know the way I wrote was fine
I’d love to stop it now but I’m writing more lines
You know I don’t even know what I’m hoping to find
running outta thoughts but I’m writing more lines
Peh. I got nothing. Apologies to Jackson Browne.