ROBERT POLLARD

Robert Pollard, the music is there
You can sleep all day, or hide anywhere
But the big refrains, the heaven sounds and holy strains fall on you like rain

Gary Waleik, you’ve written a song
But you hate the lyrics, the chords are all wrong
And the melody isn;t all that it can be
That’s what you told me

The minor stars are growing dim, and they fall around him
They’ve sputtered and they’ve faltered
None burn like Robert Pollard

Caught in creation with never a new song denied
By buzzing one-stringer and boombox and voices that guide
A rising chorus that opens wide

Paul McCartney, it pains me to say
That you have a great gift but hide it away
But we’ll forgive the crime if you pen ten perfect rhymes
Mine some gems this time

The major stars are growing dim, and they fall around him
They’ve sputtered and they’ve faltered
None burn like Robert Pollard

The big refrains would not be chained and fall like rain
The holy strains would not be chained and fall like rain
Listen Paul McCartney
Listen Brian Wilson
Listen Jagger/Richards
Listen Raymond Davies
Listen Randy Newman
Listen Colin Newman
Listen Gary Waleik
None burn like Robert Pollard