Spinning around like a fresh fallen leaf,
trying to find some common ground.
Who knew you would be,
the easy flight to spare me the massive hike.
Strumming my heart like a silly string,
fingers numb from all this intensity,
we found common harmonies, yet
never questioning the melody.
I sing, I sing to find the words
that are flying around this aesthetic world,
could a touch of heart be enough,
to dry these tears before they are heard?
Would the music play the same beats,
if the strings, got broken from the start?
And if my voice spoke what it meant,
could heart and mind make amends?
Strumming is simple, just a flick of the wrist.
But finger picking takes time that one can not resist.
So I pack my heart tight with cotton and glue,
in case for a bad break,
I will be spared a big boom.
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