I understand it wouldn't work.
And trying would make it bad.
A band can have two guitarists
but only one frontman, it's sad,

really, but I understand why.

Oh, friend of mine, carry me to
acceptance, when my feet hang,
dangle, when my legs lose angle,
push my body overseas, take me
to a place of peace, and island in
between, nothing to be seen, but
waves and clouds, colliding, turning
into one.

I'm not telling stories anymore,
what is wrong or what is different,
what is better, maybe left indifferent.
I told stories to fight the bore.

Unique, feeling, pursue that,
pursue it with passion as your
driver.
Wipe it off, use the doormat.