sit me in a silent office for four hours and i start singing to myself. having already sung in the shower, and in anticipation of a concert later on, as well as the sheer fact that spring is on it's way, my mind wazed rather verbous. the results are as follows and, as always, it's a first draft, so criticism is welcome.
i can't read music
i don't know notes, theories, or keys
still, i can't seem to contain
this strange rhythmn
so i sing it in the shower
i wash it down the drain
the water knows my passions
but my secret's safe behind the bathroom door.
i wish i knew their lessons
i wish i understood, but i don't
at times my heart longs to share
but it's a foreign game to me.
so i sing it in the shower
i wash it down the drain
the water knows my passions
but my secret's safe behind the bathroom door.
base and treble
time and tempo
all elude me
i just want to sing.
one day i'll learn and raise my voice up to the sky
but for now i'll save it for the shower
where my feeling is just mine
i lather up in music
rinse myself in song
it pours down my head and body
and i bid it so long
