There's a language barrier
That keeps my audience from connecting
The dots the composer wrote
Nail me to the cross
Bar of an eighth note
Music needs a savior
The tritone of my alarm clock
That perfect fifth of May
Waking up early
440 A
EMory board
My nails produce the tone
No amp, picks, or cord
My guitar
The wood is hollow
How high does the tempo have to be for the audience to forget to swallow
The greatest compliment is to tell me that I move you
To tiers higher
I met a schizophrenic who claimed to be brain dead
I offered him a counterpoint,
Bach replaced the voices in his head
This music makes my heart sore
They say I have a staph infection
Music’s gonna kill me
Just incase
Use my case as a coffin
I strive not to impress
But rather depress
And impress upon the audience
That sometimes the best part of music is the rest
My dad says don't fret
If I press a wrong fret
It's about the feeling
Musics like an onion
Peel it back
And it's appealing
If music is a universal language
Why to my generation is it unknown
my guitar has a rosette
But it's no Rosetta Stone
I etch different clefs in my chest
Trying to find the right key to my audience’s emotions
Trying to break down the fourth Wall
My best friend never had because she was homeless
It's acoustically dry
but soaked with tears
I wish my guitar was like a mirror
People’s mouth like my sound hole gasping for air
See my luthier built an ark
For my flood of inspiration
It's a little bit small
To ride the waves of emotion
I wanna move people
Call it a mass migration
To a world where people enjoya 4 hour opera
Over instant gratification
Their eyes wide awake
Staring like fermatas
Feet tapping on the ground
Ratta tat tatta
Musics like a gift
That you have to unwrap
They say I have many talents
But I'm still a few cents flat
