Playing
My fingers on the strings, Pressing on the frets. My mind gets off of other things
and I forget my bets. I strum a chord and think to myself, could I ask for anything
more? Than to sit to myself, my worries on the shelf, to not think of anything
else. My guitar in hand, I strike up the band, I sing my song. I think it won't be
long, before I belong to something better than this. I'm snapped from my
thought, I listen intently, I strum again gently, that doesn't sound like it ought. I
suddenly drift back into my thought, I picture you here, calling me dear. Telling
me it's not the end of the world, just because I missed one chord.
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