Good old Orpheus
With tablets of stone, "Well
What's in store for us?"
"Well, these stone tablets of mine,
Are for writing, chaps!
So get to it, get writing,
And you'll be famous, perhaps."
Mrs. Orpheus doesn't come out much
She prefers to hide in his shadows
In her husband's life, not her mediocre own
She's just beneath the shallows
But he's a superstar! Famous!
He's known all over the shop
For years and years he wrote and wrote
And it was good shit too, so fair cop
He wrote his way to the top
Orpheus floats back up sometimes
Back up into the branches fair
He leaves his tablets but he's got more
They say he's writing his masterpiece there
Or maybe he's fending off more Mrs. Orpheus'
From crones to baby-faced whores
Even still when we ask what's in store for us
He'll always have a little bit more
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