Scott Whitby, 2021
Writing a song is the saddest
The most disappointing thing
You give your heart and expose it
They only notice you can't sing
You play the greatest riff
Melody before unknown
Pick the perfect tune
Such a beautiful song
Fingers bleed
From strumming with such force
Practice over and over
And sing until you're hoarse
It takes a long time
Wake up in the night
To write another verse
Line up the words just right
Find a different chord
One that's not been played
Fit between two subtle notes
And sing words never said
Finish and practice
Sing it over and over
Practice and sing it
Until it's sweet as white clover
Finally it's ready
Not a hit but it ain't bad
A song about your baby
With an ending kinda sad
Play it soft and sweet
Every chord in perfect time
Can't wait for you to hear it
Sing with me...every rhyme
Pick a little intro
Strum and make it ring
Hammer down, then a pause
And wait for you to sing
Then the all familiar
The distant far away stare
You don't even hear it
My beautiful song unaware
Now my heart is exposed
A screaming violin
You don't even hear it
I'll never play it again
Writing a song is the saddest
The most disappointing thing
You give your heart and expose it
And only notice I can't sing
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