Poem -

SONGS

SONGS

I listen to the old songs, 'cupid draw back your bow,
and let your arrows fly,' yeah, we'll just go with the flow;
what do we have now, rap crap, not like good old rat pack,
no good being maudlin, it's gone and they aint coming back.

I was there, a gift, strange sometimes lke a derogatory shift,
put something on, sometimes it can give you a nice lift;
like Dusty, 'you don't have to say you love me, be close at hand,'
iconic, raised to heights like those invisible grains of sand.

They ask me; 'What was it like?' Better than Harry Styles,
innovative, Buble' tries to copy, time was greater by miles;
has Elvis left the building - there's no one to replace him,
others may try but it's just as well that the lights are dim.

Of course, stop moanin' old man, since you were such a fan,
but you just don't know - you weren't there when it all began. 

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