Shel Silverstein

Sure Hit Songwriter’s Pen

Now I was hangin' round Nashville writin' songs and playin' 'em for all of the stars Watchin' 'em laugh and hand 'em back livin' on hope and Hershey bars So I pawned my guitar and bought a ticket home and I's headin' for the Trailway bus When I seen an old fountain pen laying in the gutter so I stopped and picked it up It was worn-out bent and cast aside you know kinda sorta like myself So I sat down on the curb and wrote a little song That told the world how both of us felt Then I run that song down to Music Row and before I had time to spit It's pitched and sold and cut for a record And moving up the charts and damn it's a hit So I wrote me another winner then I wrote me a smash again And I's a flyin' off the ground cause I knew I'd found me a sure hit songwriter's pen So the songs they just kept a'pourin' out and the money kept pouring in I just couldn't miss all it took was a twist of my sure hit songwriter's pen Remember when I won the Grammy then I won it again and again Well none of you knew that it was all due to my sure hit songwriter's pen I was darling with all the ladies I was a hero among the men... Making big dough working rodeos and TV shows me and my sure hit songwriter's pen But then one night in Wichita I was just coming off of the stage Folks all lined up and did crawl for my autograph Lord I was a national rage One little freckled face girl was there she said I got no pencil sir So I signed it with my songwriter's pen and then handed the pen back to her Four o'clock that morning I wake up with the shakes and the bends With terror in my eyes cause good God I realized I'd lost my sure hit songwriter's pen I offered rewards in the papers I pleaded on the Sympathy Line And a whole lotta folks and a whole lotta pens but none of them pen's was mine So my songs got worse and my money ran out and so did all my so-called friends And there was no doubt I was nothing without my long-lost sure hit songwriter's pen So I rolled like a stone down old Skid Row where I feed my blues on wine And I rest my chops in a two-bit flop and I tell my story for a drink or a dime And I sleep with my shoes underneath my head and I dream about days back then When I blazed my name across the sky with my sure hit songwriter's pen Somewhere in Wichita some little girl who's a freckled face nine or ten Is doing her arithmetic homework tonight with a sure hit songwriter's pen God bless ya honey you got yourself my sure hit songwriter's pen

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