Paroles de Vera

(in which igor practices his american in the form of notes to his wife) oh vera i can't complain but when, when will you write? this city is strange and strangely bright sooner or later i'll change oh vera my cough is silent and Sunset is setting up fine there's work for me here and here is my work while we wait for my lungs to dry oh vera tonight i'm lost what makes me live for this craft? i'm going nowhere my music's a bust even our neighbors just laugh oh vera we must see a film i think that it might change my life something with garland who's down on her luck the kind of picture i like oh vera i'm full of it now who knew that notes could be fun? i'm counting to 12 and then back to one i feel i'm a writer again oh vera i'm truly content i'm waiting alone for a friend a helluva poet a hollywood type who turns up the words on their end oh vera i'm reading the news i can do nothing but cry the opera was summer an apple just fell it's funny how well poets lie.