experience for the future experience nerves experience for the future for all around and in a row and at the piano and for guitar and for ukulele and for minutes experience for the future experience
experience for the future experience the imagination of what is to come everything worries me a little worries and disturbs me without end experience for the future experience
experience for the future experience which year which is around nerves leave me no nerves and no they probably never leave me experience for the future experience
A guitar has six strings That when struck as one note Can elicit a sound Far beyond a mere throat Yet a voice can sink ships Or at least it's been said Can a six-stringed guitar Claim one person that's dead?
in guitar class holding a guitar in my hands but my fingers aren't moving they're not working i'm trying to play but i can't every time i breathe in a cloud of sadness gets pulled in and my lungs ache tears are falling i can't see the notes my vision is blurry why can't i move?
old guitar behind and the old lamp before my eyes where the road will bring me again where fate will see me again will my soul meet love
will the blue bird sing on the branches will the harps play the melodious will golden glasses fall from heaven will the night fall for my sake and for my great journey
documents around them documents they are a poet to me documents they are lira documents they are guitar they are a guitar they are a guitar they are the violin they are the pianos
documents around them the documents are sung to me again documents on how to get away from them documents never to leave because always always always existed were were were they
i sat, leaning against the wall guitar in hands my fingers dancing on the strings i closed my tear-filled eyes and let my heart take over i recorded the sound of my broken heart you may not like the sound of it but it wasn't meant to sound pretty it wasn't meant to sound like a perfect thing it was meant to sound broken just like me
here I sit again I remember my humble spring remember those modest lights and that humble red guitar and friend and light and new mountains
I see again and I remember my dreams and I like water here I sit here and I sit like I then said that it would come this moment and hour will come
and even then by the light of those lanterns and in the light of that coming sun and summer with all these drawings graffiti and guitar I was not so happy then not at all but now I remember the words and everything will pass and what will pass it will be nice and beautiful
Somewhere tonight there’s a girl writing a song between working two jobs, ignoring the voices that tell her to give up. I hope she never does. I hope her future is a bright one.
