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Poem
My mornings will begin five hours past midnight
Eyes barely open, calluses still hardened
I grab the pick from my nightstand
Feeling strong and hyped despite drowsiness
The pick flips as the strings sing their tune
Awakening bliss of chords and melody
Waiting to be in the studio with you..

Light strums become distorted beauty
Your presence is at my side
Power is on, inputs are occupied
Notes harmonizing ever so sweetly
Almost no effort is made
Yet the process is so perfectly tuned
Oh to be in the studio with you..

Time for a homemade breakfast
Familiar scent of eggs and sausage
Sunlight crashing through the open window
Plucking out my notes between bites
Such a warm and welcoming feeling
A morning complete, sweet songs and orange juice
Across the hall from the studio with you..

There's no need to leave our home
Business trips mean walking to the beach
Painting, drawing, creating for money
Submitting our hearts into various auctions
Odd jobs, writing songs, living simply
Food on the table, love in our home
Glad just to be in the studio with you..

Afternoon fades into a sunset
A visual reward for surviving another day
Playing guitar on a warm rooftop
Looking into the world resting in your eyes
Romantic chords intensify your glances
Our bodies embrace as sun lights the ocean
Holding you forever in the studio with you..

The pick lies on the nightstand as we lay to rest
I see it as my motivation and my charm
Fighting for what I love, evolving into my dream
So that happiness and satisfaction can flourish
Your voice is a lullaby, sweet and eternal
Resting our minds for the following day
Another night in the studio with you..

Music is a lifestyle, not a hobby
A lifestyle I hope to completely acquire
On a distant beach of endless splendor
Laying on the rooftop with guitar and voice
Music and love coexisting with no limits
The world is our studio
The studio with you..
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