An old dusty guitar in your trash yard
Once lived on your lap yard

Hardly wished to be owned once again
Since you replaced him with J-45

Rusty half broken strings may ever tune again
Old charismatic tune which held your feel

Your lovely fingers tugged his strings… once again
Your magnetic touch recalled an old familiar lyric
Blossomed with salty rains, blessed by your melodies

Don’t allow yourself to play with his soul dear,
if you can’t control his harmony
if you can't quell his memory

Let’s not dear…
If you are not his jingle
If you are not his miracle

What if YOU are?

Break him once;
Let’s not crack him twice

An old dusty guitar in your trash yard
Once lived on your lap yard