So I took my guitar. And I threw down some chords. And some words I could sing. Without shame. And I soon had a song. I played it around. For some friends. But they all said the same. They said "Music's for fools. You should go back to school. The future is prisons and math.". So I did what they said. Now my children are fed. Cause they pay me to do what I'm asked. I forgot all my songs. The words now are wrong. And I burned my guitar in a rage. But the fire came to rest. In your white velvet breast. So somehow I just know that it's safe