Lifting the Veil

Lifting the Veil You see, Mr Bilton, Sir This trumpet that you gave me Fails my musical sense to stir A guitar would surely save me A guitar is all I yearn Should I whinge and whine and wail Or will His Dominance make mine turn A whiter shade of pale My puny chest draws deep a breath My lips pucker to tweet The notes inside were lost to death Instead of sounding sweet Sorry Sir, embarrassed I For all that I exhale Leaves the effort that I ply A whiter shade of pale Relenting to the obvious He throws at me a strummy It ain’t no Stradivarius But sits well on me tummy I plucks vibrations on the strings My muse it lifts the veil For on his rosy cheek there clings A whiter shade of pale. For Arcy’s, ‘Sing to Me’ Contest Inspired by; Whiter Shade of Pale