Singing From My Boots
SINGING FROM MY BOOTS
I cannot sing with perfect pitch,
run up the scale, or down to switch.
I cannot sing in chords of E,
or vocalize in any key.
To hit a Sharp, will B a Flat,
I'm singing impaired, and That is That!
If there are four to harmonize,
then, tape my mouth for no surprise.
My throat can't copy what you sing,
my lips will tighten; my ears will ring.
The lyrics are known but, the tune is dead,
and the scales keep running in my head.
Yet when I go to hear a band,
I stand and sing; I think I'm grand.
The symphony will make me hum,
all parts of Mozart's requiem.
And when the Opera is my treat,
I make vibrato trill and sweet.
I hear the soloist croon with flutes,
he's singing loud and from his roots.
All I can hope when I open my mouth,
is north sounding notes, that never go south.
So if I stand with noteworthy troupes,
know that I'll sing from down in my boots.
-Edlynn Nau
August 18, 2015
Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2015
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