Goodbye my muse, I'll cry again.
You spoke to me since I was nine or ten.
Together we wrote about love or needs.
Learned of hate and defeat,
killed our characters and burned our scenes.

Goodbye my muse, you've gone away,
when I've became stuck on page ninety-five,
Now that snow has fallen down.
My character runs around.
I'll think of you and wish you're here.

We had pens, we had cards, we had snow on the ground.
But the love I have wrote
were bad phrases afloat.

Goodbye, reader, please forgive me,
I had barely started penning this scene.
You tried to encourage me to write along.
Too much beer and too much pong,
wonder how my muse gets on.

Goodbye, reader, you've gone away,
when I've became suck on page ninety-five,
Now that snow has fallen down.
Little gnomes run everywhere.
When you see them, better beware.

We had pens, we had cards, we had snow on the ground.
But the beer and the pong,
like all things are now gone.

We had pens, we had cards, we had snow on the ground.
But the beer and the pong,
like all things are now gone.

Goodbye, bookwrm, our beloved ML
You gave us hope and helped us enjoy our time.
And even when we were down
you were always around
to pick our pens up off the ground.

Goodbye, bookwrm, you've gone away,
when I've became stuck on page ninety-five,
Now that snow has fallen down.
With bloody corpses all around
I'm sure my muse will come back to town.

We had pens, we had cards, we had snow on the ground.
But the scenes that we wrote
where just disjointed out of hope.

We had pens, we had cards, we had snow on the ground.
But the scenes that we wrote
where just disjointed out of hope.

We had pens, we had cards, we had snow on the ground.
But the beer and the pong,
like all things are now gone.

All our writing, we had cards, we had snow on the ground.
But the love I have wrote
were bad phrases afloat.