Tuneless
When the words won’t come
And the rhymes run dry,
When the tunes won’t hum
And the airs won’t fly,
When the metres break
And the scans won’t flow,
When the beat won’t take
And the one won’t go,
When all the lyrics stutter,
And when all the choirs mutter,
And when all rhythms splutter,
Sing along, sing along !
We cannot all be nightingales
With perfect breath to fill our sails,
Or even decent banshee wails –
We were not built for song.
We have no need to score each stress
To make ourselves be heard –
If tending slightly to a drone or whine.
But if you’re rendered music-less,
Well, take our flat and spoken word
That life goes on in monotone just fine.
