Pour all those emotions onto that verse sheet.
Tell the room how you feel with the help of your guitar.
Let them fester in your heartbroken blues and cigarette smoke.
majority do not look up from their tilted whiskey, to busy drowning their own neglectful pity.
But I'm here savouring your every lyric and burying it into me.
Let me see you at your most vulnerable while your writing your sins.
If you did would they be so poignant and brave.
I'm scared to ruin your mystery or to petrified to be apart of your sound.