No the poet is not in today He did not say where he's going or how long he's apt to stay He mentioned that he didn't have a worthwhile thing to say No the poet is not in today He's tired of writing pretty words for pretty boys Once made him feel like Cyrano But now with every single lying rhyme he writes His heart begins to feel a lot more like Pinocchio He's burning up his passion writing greeting cards His soul no longer glows in the dark And he's concerned that God cannot see him anymore So he's gone to try and find the place Where he first found the spark Oh the poet is not in today... He said he might go back to pounding nails A job that's got some dignity and class He said with guys like you it's always heads or tails And you would not know a work of art if it bit you on the @$# No the poet is not in today...