There's one rotten string on my Ukulele
That holds me back from playing
Behind it, an inexplicable frustration
But the explanation goes without saying.

Strum, Strum, Buzz, Strum
Why can't I just play the chord
Is something wrong with the instrument?
Beyond repair I can afford?

Maybe it's me, that's playing wrong
Why can't I strum that string?
I can't play my freaking melody,
So I guess I'll just try to sing.

I'll show them respect and I'll do the right thing.
Words of good spirit, I promise I'll bring.
I'll do the good deeds you can no longer do.
I'll be a good person and I'll do it for you.

Love is not a triangle, love is a heart.
Love is a whole, not only a part.
Love is a bond that it harsh, but it's bold.
Love is a story that has yet to be told.
Sand that refuses to wash from the shore
A hold that is held forever and more.
Love is a wish, a promise, a prayer
Love is knowing that someone is there.
Love is shared between one and another
Love is being there for each other

Love is something you'll never know,
Love is a wonder you cross as you grow.

Some things go, and some things stay
But why did they have to leave this way?
Some people wonder and some people know
Why everyone eventually has to go.
But those who wonder, those so young
Who have they wronged? What have they done?
What can we change? What can we do?
To make the world safe for me and for you?
Who do we go to, to end the war
To make our lives last a little more.
For self-defense, we use are guns
But when people do otherwise, what is there to be done?
We can stay strong and with all our might
We'll help each other to be brave and to fight
All we have now is one another
But are we strong enough to just love each other?
Some things go, and some things stay,
But we don't have to live this way.

Tears bleed in early morning, speeding up as they drop.
Tears bleed every night; tears refuse to stop

To those who value looks more than they value mind:
I hereby propose a toast to your most precious waste of time.

To those who'd rather cherish sovereignty and praise
I wish you a blissful epiphany in your finer days.

I love what I do
But the things I don't do
Seem more important than the rest.
I love sleeping and writing and listening to music
And I love doing my best
But when my best has been done
When it's not enough
I don't pass the test
I cry in a ball and I want to start over
Doing my best