Washing dishes at a no name diner
Worked his way up to line cook on the weekdays
But his daydream's burnin', his dishtowel he turned in
Another dead-end job on a poet's resumé
So he followed a lover out West
Where the sun sets on Pacific Palisades
When she slept with an old boyfriend
It tore him up to no end
Put all that pain on a poet's resumé
When you work in heartache
You still earn those callouses
Words on a napkin in dead languages
Everybody loves him but no one ever stays
Another whiskey to unwind
Another less than perfect rhyme
Another wasted line on a poet's resumé
Fine line between being free and being lonely
It's blood from a stone and stoned on Percocet
He don't believe in God but he's praying
He'll find something worth saying
In a new way no one's ever heard it said
When you work in heartache
You still earn those callouses
Words on a napkin in dead languages
Everybody loves him but no one ever stays
Another whiskey to unwind
Another less than perfect rhyme
Another wasted line on a poet's resumé
And he knows it's in his blood
His blood is on the page
And the page will always turn
That's how it goes when you're young
When the only thing you're scared of
Is running out of words
When you work in heartache
You still earn those callouses
Words on a napkin in dead languages
Everybody loves him but no one ever stays
Another whiskey to unwind
Another less than perfect rhyme
Maybe this will be the line
On a poet's resumé