Dostoevsky my old friend

Come and wake me up again

She was the error of my improvident youth

I moved to Georgia on a whim

That’s how I used to live back then

I was the rakish vagabond women loved to try to fix

But you can’t fix me

I don’t need fixing

I belong to the old regime

I write my songs without machines

Artificial Intelligence is such a stupid phrase

I’ve got bigger fish to fry

Algorithms and Spotify

I ain’t preaching I’m just saying how it is and how it ain’t

But you don’t listen

No time for listening

Tendinitis in both my knees

Probiotics and collard greens

I put powder in my hair and take all my vitamins

Oh, how my constitution fails me

Now that I’m pushing fifty

The irony ain’t lost on me, red wine and melatonin

But I’ve been sleeping

With one eye open

I can’t toe the party line

I need a little wiggle room

There won’t be no sing alongs in the heaven of my mind

Don’t sing along

This ain’t that song

Don’t sing along

This ain’t that song