Saturday, May 7, 2016

Lonely Writer and other new songs



A new song, dedicated to all the lonely writers in the world!



Lonely Writer

I don’t go out no more
No one comes to knock my door
Can’t remember who last I saw

Cos I’m a lonely writer

I don’t frequent late night bars
Don't get into stranger’s cars
I may as well live on Mars

Cos I’m a lonely writer

I don’t have a social plan
Try to catch me if you can
Write to me if you’re a fan

Cos I’m a lonely writer

Lonely writers work on their books
They skulk about in quiet nooks
Take lonely strolls and lonely walks
Have no time for small talk

Lonely Writer

I don’t have no time to dance
Or get in other peoples pants
Time is precious, can’t take the chance

Cos I’m a lonely writer

I must think and ruminate
For inspiration cannot wait
Must hit the desk at half past eight

Cos I’m a lonely writer

I don’t go for dinners out
Or to the pub for a shout
I’m a loner there’s no doubt

Cos I’m a lonely writer

At the writer’s festival, you would never know
See the lonely writers, all in a row
Witty, charming, erudite
We will party on all night
Drinking, drugging, swapping beds
Climbing in each other’s heads
Take the opportunity
Cos next week again, we’ll all be

Lonely writers
Lonely writers
Lonely writers


(c) Jan Cornall 2016






Rock Star

When I was young, I had the notion
My life wouldn't be just a drop in the ocean
I would do something grand, I would do something great
But now I wonder have I left it too late

To be a rockstar, have a fancy car
Even tho’ I cannot drive, I would surely feel alive
As a rockstar

As I got older I did a few things
Got my name in the paper, did a few gigs
Got a few laughs, in clubs after dark
Then I knew how I would make my mark

I’d be a stand up / comedienne
I would show the world
How to love a funny girl
 Be a stand up/ comedienne

Well I did a few shows
Went on the road
With Wendy and Gretel, we got our names known
Then I had babies, one, two, three
Then I discovered the real me

I’d be a writer, a famous novelist
At the writers festivals
I’d be on the top ten list
A famous author

Now I’m retired from aspiration
I’m wondering about the future I’m facing
Thinkin’, thank god I ain’t known across the nation
Cos I’m free to enjoy my ruminating
I don’t feel sad, don’t feel bereft
Cos I know there is still something left

I’m a singer, and I sing my songs
I invite my friends to sing along
I’m free to sing the blues
Or whatever the hell I choose

( Wild vocal improv)

Yeah I’m a rock star
I don’t need a fancy car
I’m happy not to drive
Cos I have a happy life!  Rockstar!







Floozy



I met a guy, he caught my eye

I really couldn’t pass him by

He liked me too, we start talk

Upon the street, we start to walk

I like his voice, I like his style

We laugh a lot, I like his smile

It feels so good to find a man

Who listens well, who understands

There’s something tho’ I cannot place

There’s some look upon his face

His glances all about the room

I see the others start to swoon

Then I get it, then I know

I will have to let him go



Cos he’s a floozy

A real doozy

He doesn’t mean to hurt

He pushes through me

To get to the other floozy

And leaves me in the dirt



He flirts with boys, he flirts with girls

He loves old ladies wearing pearls

He’ll charm your dog, he’ll charm your cat

Won’t care if you’re thin or fat

He does not discriminate

There’s nobody that he hates



Cos he’s a floozy etc.


He loves the waiter, loves the cook

The waitress in a quiet nook

The bank teller, supermarket chick

Loves anyone who gives him schtick

Policeman, landlord, boring friend

He’ll invite them round again



 Cos he’s a floozy etc.


I met a guy, he caught my eye

I really couldn’t pass him by

He liked me too, we start talk

Upon the street, we start to walk

I like his voice, I like his style

We laugh a lot, I like his smile

It feels so good to find a man

Who listens well, who understands
and yet there's one thing that I know 
I will have to let him go



Cos he’s a floozy, a real floozy

He’s a charmer, he’s a flirt

He doesn’t mean to hurt

He gives you such attention

In the moment that you’re with him

When he’s gone all is forgiven

Such a floozy! 


 (c) Jan Cornall 2016