here is my beautiful poem
FancyFacade
Posts: 330
guitars, long hair, parties, fame
too bored to play this game
take something meaningful
and turn it into trash
i never want to be famous
never want to be known
like its everything to be
overrated and overblown
quit throwing it in my face
before i throw my television out the window!!!
im sick of this music
on commercials everywhere
guitars all over television
makes me really hate it
make a buck, make a buck, make a buck
you dont play for music's sake
make a buck, make a buck, make a buck
all this crap implies that you are cool
if you play guitar you make people drool
ill start playing the accordion offkey
all this crap really turns me off,
yes, really!
if i could
(even though i sound very selfish)
i would buy all
the guitars
in the world
and destroy them all
and destroy the memory of them
so they could not be made
ever again
this stupid, repulsive, dead, trite
symbol of status.
so utterly repulsive.
too bored to play this game
take something meaningful
and turn it into trash
i never want to be famous
never want to be known
like its everything to be
overrated and overblown
quit throwing it in my face
before i throw my television out the window!!!
im sick of this music
on commercials everywhere
guitars all over television
makes me really hate it
make a buck, make a buck, make a buck
you dont play for music's sake
make a buck, make a buck, make a buck
all this crap implies that you are cool
if you play guitar you make people drool
ill start playing the accordion offkey
all this crap really turns me off,
yes, really!
if i could
(even though i sound very selfish)
i would buy all
the guitars
in the world
and destroy them all
and destroy the memory of them
so they could not be made
ever again
this stupid, repulsive, dead, trite
symbol of status.
so utterly repulsive.
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
Eric Dolphy indeed.. Out To Lunch is excellent.. it's on Blue Note..
Lee Morgan was also excellent.. one of the best trumpets ever.. beautiful phrasing..
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green