I have no metal.
I have no funk.
Lost my folk, my jazz,
almighty punk.
I sat my guitar back
in its case.
Laid the strap
over its dimmed face.
Easy now. The down.
The slide.
Rest the music.
Close the eyes.
I know one song
from start to end
and here it is.
I recommend
you play it slow
and soft to start.
Crescendo till
it breaks a heart.
Need not be yours,
need not be mine.
Just count it off
just one more time.
I have no metal
and crashed my punk.
My funk and jazz
have run to junk.
I have no song
to offer here.
Close the door.
Disappear.
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