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keats conlon - robert quinn lyrics

[verse 1]
there’s a old pompous house
on the outside of town
where the dirt matches well with the paint
windows are broken
and words are not spoken
tween tenant and postman and maid
and the man inside
lives off remnants of pride
back when he used to write
before clouds came and poisoned his mind
now he searches through ash trays for letters
that will hopefully help him remember
who he was
he finds none

[chorus]
poor robert quinn
got lost in his cigarettes and gin
forgot all of his words
so the world forgot all about him

[verse 2]
he was king of his art
back when his mind was sharp
and his hair hadn’t started to grey
he got his fame
from his heroes and dames
and his stories that read like poetry
and he saw no end
to his talent or his fortune
even when the lines blurred
he’d just blame it on living and liquor
now he searches through ash trays for letters
that will hopefully help him remember
who he was
he finds none

[chorus]
poor robert quinn
got lost in his cigarettes and gin
forgot all of his words
so the world forgot all about him

[bridge]
and poor robert fell
down to through the pages he’d slaved upon
past demons and queens to oblivion
while his readers and peers grew so bored
of his dazed eyes and lack of rapport
til they shoved thoughts of him far away
til he followed and that’s where he stays

[verse 3]
now he sits in his house
on the outside of town
with his eyes plastered to the tv
the pictures seem hazy
through smoke and his brandy
but he can’t understand them anyway

- keats conlon lyrics

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