I am not a muse
I don’t have hits on charts with other people’s bad news
I’m not a series of childish clues that believe cleverly in half truths
I am not a muse, I am not a muse…
I am not some sad jack in anorak or half-cap, high on smack
I am not a muse, I am not a muse, I am not a muse, I am not a muse…
I am not in the band because Daddy didn’t understand
I do not gain from others' pain and then sell it back to them again
I’m not mad or insane
I’m not into early Miles Davis or John Coltrane
I am not a muse, I am not a muse, I am not a muse, I am not a muse,
I am not a muse…
I am not a muse
I do not profess to love the blues
I’m not fit to shine Gram Parsons' new soft shoes
I do not mention countless interviews, countless interviews, I am not a muse
I am not a northern star
I do not greet my friends with 'ay-ups' and «Alright lads»
I don’t sit outside of Italian
I am not a muse
I’m not a series of «don'ts and do’s» and «who's whose» for the middle classes
to peruse
I don’t hang with North London crews
I am not a muse, no I ain’t no muse…
I am not a professional southerner
I know I’m not «Alright, guv’nor.»
As one masochist said to the other, «don't beat yourself up about it, brother
Don’t beat yourself up about it, brother.»
I did not form a band to get a larger plot of land
It was not engineered or planned to spend a life by sea or sand
To get our tail feathers fanned
I am not a muse, I am not a muse
I am not a muse
I’m not into Robert Johnson
I don’t love those Delta blues, I can feel the breeze but I can’t change a few
I am not a muse, I am not a muse
I am not in the band because Daddy or Mommy didn’t understand
I do not gain from others' pain and then sell it back to them again
I’m not mad or insane
I’m not into early Miles Davis or John Coltrane
I am not a muse… x16