Translation Taken From A Fictitious Pottery Shard

Oh, Melancholy!
Oh, Woe!
You have left me lying here
In the dust,
The strings of my lute are broken,
Yet I have songs,
Are they to remain unsung?

It was only yesterday
I was the favorite of the Court,
Today I am nothing,
Was it the wine?

Where is the ship that can take me from here?
Take me to new countries
Where I am unknown,
Where my lyrics
Have not become trite,
Where I can plug in my Fender Strat
To my Bluesman amp,
Soaring high upon the neck
Of the Muse,
What?! What words are these?
Unknown to me
Coming from some strange place
Yet discovered?
What is yonder green light approaching?
A ship that sails in the air?
Surely this is strange!