There it sits
Waiting
Watching

It's a Yamaha
With a Union-Jack back
The last of it's
Kind

It's been a faithful companion
It came to me
When I was six
Not brand new
But second hand

Through all the tears
All the humiliation
All the pain
All the scoldings
All the belittlings
It stuck through with me
With sweat and blood
Shed on the keys
It didn't complain
When I threw
My tantrums
Banging the keys
Even kicking it once
Or twice
It just waited
And watched me
Till I calmed down
And felt
Stupid
After
I practised
Everyday
And not once
Did it
Complain

It has a really bright
Crystal clear
Sound
With this certain
Energy
And depth

I took great pride
In taking care of it
Polishing it
Every other day
Till it shone
Like a mirror

As time went by
One grade after the other
The practises became
Less and
Less
I didn't care for it
As much as I did
Before
A year passed
Then another

Now I'm fourteen
It's twenty eight
Or more
I've had my share
Of performing
On stage
With all types of pianos
But there was this
One thing
That was different
With my piano
Something it
Lacked

The sound is there
The energy is there
But somehow
When I compare the recordings
My dear piano
Just sounds
Tired...
The touch stickier
The keys start failing
On some days
It sounds
Muted
Always slightly off key
No matter how many times
The piano man comes
This is one patient
The doctor can't treat

Is it possible
That emotions
Can be transferred
To objects?
Has my raging
Over the keyboard
Tired it out
By having to
Express
What I play
And what I
Put
Into the pieces?

It's a piano
Of memories
Of thoughts
Of an inexpressable phenomenon
Called feelings
"Where words fail, music speaks"
I salute you
Dear piano
For allowing me
To express myself
Through the written pieces
You help
Materialize

We have grown together
Walked this long journey together
And with all the memories
Sweat
Blood
Tears
That has made me today
I won't part with
Till the very end,
Dear piano

So shall we continue?

Hearts hold out,
they're under arrest again.
Making love on the lam,
at first you were
reluctant but I know
that you liked it.

For you, I stole a locket,
yeah, I picked pockets,
and I'd build a whole
rocket ship just to get
to you.

You'll have to search and seize me,
You'll have to shoot and freeze me.
Hearts hurt now, there's a lot at stake,
We're all criminals, look at the
trouble we make.

You never
thought I'd
say never.

Get Clever.

**** a sickle from the star,
******' stick it in a cross.
******' vinegar, I'm hot.
I don't dance a lot.

Pull it it back
like a bow,
you'll never know
what I'm talking about,
I'll just throw
my paint at
the canvas, let it
work itself out.

Pucker up and tuck
it in. **** it up
and bless your sin.

Keep the privileged in their place
and keep the simple in their space,
there is no common you can't erase.

Too many
******' problems,
you wish
you
could
******' solve 'em.

Too much hate?
Your heart
has never had
to participate.

******' lonely?
You've got
too much
on your plate.

Reciprocate.

The surface,
the focus,
I'm sure of all of this.

Get clever.

In all seriousness,
I hate to say it's not an art that's improvised, it's more like you camp out, waiting, sitting, wishing, thinking, eating, waiting, sitting, wishing, thinking. Praying like **** for the the snare that you set up in an half assed attempt, like always, ******* hoping it comes through for you. Pathetic isn't it?

I've got too many ideas and as these dimwits stare at the bright light behind me I get sadder.
You're probably getting madder, like I'm a ******* ingrate, It's not too late to call me out because I've just begun my tirade.

Unreadable, I know.
If you made it this far I've got to say, you are completely frivolous, and forlorn;
for that I salute you, and realizing this is all in bad taste, I bid you goodnight.

****, that was fast. Didn't even get to what I meant to.

Coffee shop talk,
a cigarette gets lit.

Coffee shop talk,
come here, come sit.

Coffee shop talk,
I've got a lot to tell you.

Coffee shop talk,
I've got to stop
stalking you.

Bitter and blue,
because I was never true.
Bitter and blue,
I see the quitter in you.

Bitter and blue,
I want a better view.
Bitter and blue,
fit for only a few.

Bitter and blue,
it's quicker to chew.
Bitter and blue,
I'm a lot sicker than you.

I used to have the most sensitive skin.

Just any old graze could
raise the hairs on my arms
and send me into a shiver.

I used to love being touched.

Your skin is like plastic
when you breathe and stretch,
a wretched figure with
more than one world of
pain endured.

But you know,
it's interesting
(our skin),
now that I'm
calloused.