The Prize
The night of a thousand verses
One thousand friends said have you heard
What we expected
We are all working late and
Waiting to win a prize we don't deserve
And live to collect it
Can't you see I'm weary
Maybe this news can wait
The night of a thousand verses
One thousand strivers strain to hear
A voice that's left us
And the magazines still have to sell us
Twelve mastergeniuses a year
It's all so shameless
Can't you see I'm weary
Maybe this news can wait
Can't you see I'm blurry
Maybe this news can wait
Maybe there was a message in it
I don't know where you hid it
Maybe there was a piece that will fit
I don't know where to fit it
Tell me what kind of prize can you get
Where you don't want to win it?
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