Monday, August 8, 2011

Live For Guitar and Drums...

And goosebumps

Lyrics, and voices, screamed, crooned and desperate...barely spoken.  That one riff, that has been played before, and again and again.  Revisited and remade.  Reworked, respected and ripped off.

I find beauty in those chills.  Solidarity in those gasps for air from the meaningful and the (seemingly) meaningless.

I sing (yelling, somewhat in tune) barely muted into my bathroom mirror.  Funny faces that I know Rolling Stone and NME would love....

Finally realizing that, people sing for me

I am somewhat satisfied.