At the Bluebird
David A. Crossman
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She sits outside the floodlight As her hero takes the stage A bandy-legged boy on shaky knees To you and me he's just another Would-be troubadour To her, he is the man of her dreams And he will sing his songs And she mouths every word She whispers him along It's Open Mic Night at the Bluebird Oh and maybe tonight Maybe tonight Someone will be listening Somebody who holds the key To fortune and fame She's ridden his dreams so long They feel like her own Those dreams their car That battered guitar Are all that they own And tonight they bet it all On that 10 by 12-foot stage In hopes the god of misfit dreams Will listen to him play And he will sing his songs And she mouths every word She whispers him along It's Open Mic Night at the Bluebird Oh and maybe tonight Baby tonight Someone will be listening Somebody who holds the key To fortune and fame She's ridden his dreams so long They feel like her own Those dreams their car That battered guitar Are all that they own And tonight they bet it all On that 10 by 12-foot stage In hopes the god of misfit dreams Will listen to him play She sits outside the floodlight As her hero takes the stage A bandy-legged boy on shaky knees To you and me he's just another Would-be troubadour To her, he is the man of her dreams
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"At the Bluebird Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 8 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/6543374/David+A.+Crossman/At+the+Bluebird>.
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