Hush little poet, don't write a word,
Your hand's all shaky, your vision is blurred.
I'll sing a song that will calm your mind.
It's been such a long day - all the books you've signed
and that press conference and the interviews
when they read your poems on the 10 o'clock News.
So hush little poet, tomorrow it will seem
that all the fuss and fame today was nothing but a dream.