Turn the Page

In your dark and lonesome office

West on Campus Drive

You listen to the printer

Churning out page 25

You think about citations...

And your footnotes, in Chicago Style

But your thoughts will soon be wanderin

The way they always do

You've been traveling 16 hours

And there's so much left to do

And you don't feel much like schmoozing

You just wish the session was through

Here I am, on the road again

There I am, up on the stage

There I go playin' the star again

There I go, turn the page

Well you walk into your session

Strung out from the road

You feel the eyes upon you

As you're shaking off a cold

You pretend it doesn't bother you

But your nemesis is in the front row!

Most times you can't hear 'em talk

Other times you can

You could read the live tweets later, filled

With existential dread

But there's oh so many hashtags, and 

You should have dinner instead

Here I am, on the road again

There I am, up on the stage

There I go playin' the star again

There I go, turn the page

Out there in the spotlight

You're a million miles away

All the names of French theorists

You're trying hard to say

Cut that one dude on your panel

Took 3 of your minutes away

Later in the evening

As you lie awake in bed

With the echoes from the Q and A 

Ringing in your head

You smoke the day's last cigarette

Remembering what they said

Here I am, on the road again

There I am, up on the stage

There I go playin' the star again

There I go, turn the page

Here I am, on the road again

There I am, up on the stage

There I go playin' the star again

There I go, turn the page