When I was young, my mother sung
The song of singing things.
She sang of seas,
A salty breeze,
And underwater kings.

Up and down the music scale
Her vocal chords would call
On couples' dance
And wedding bands.
Oh merry would be all!

I recollect her melodies.
Recall them time to time.
For every day,
When I would play,
I'd mimick all her rhymes.

But my voice was not, made for ballot.
I couldn't keep a beat.
I tried and yet,
I'd always forget,
How her songs became complete.

So I quit my act, and faced the fact
I had not my mother's art.
And my mother said,
"It's in your head
Now put it in your heart."

I tried my best, to feel the rest.
All I did was squall.
But can you sing the song
of singing things
if you've never sung at all?