• music flows around all,
    unliving and undead,
    taking its form in all sound,
    from the humble nails on a chalk board,
    which creates scratches to be harnessed for the sound,
    to the great guitar and its endless sounds,
    music forever undieing,
    to never bend,
    never break,
    never wane,
    never fall,
    and to never die,
    and to never live,
    for music is death and life and death and life back again to the endless imortality
    god of all,
    life and death,
    love and hate,
    food and drink,
    work and play,
    fear and strength,
    to never bend,
    never break,
    never wane,
    never fall,
    and to never die,
    and to never live,
    for music is death and life and death and life back again to the endless imortality,
    older than all,
    younger than all,
    being made at all times,
    by the great gales,
    the strong earth,
    the dancing flames,
    and the flowing water,
    creating sound to mingle,
    mingle and create the great natural music bending and flowing around us,
    music immortal,
    seeming to never fall,
    never crack,
    never serious,
    never the liar,
    always the reason,
    for life and death,
    love and hate,
    food and drink,
    work and play,
    fear and strength,
    and forever being my god,
    lord,
    king,
    lover,
    and all else,
    i am but the humble servant delivering the great or humble sounds that make up all the great music,
    rock,
    pop,
    new wave,
    rap,
    beep bop,
    beat bop,
    regae,
    metal,
    love,
    screamo,
    all the pieces musics associated too,
    but not all there is,
    from the great gales,
    to the strong earth,
    to the dancing flames,
    to and the flowing water,
    musics made,
    and repeated,
    different and indifferent,
    sometimes same,
    always unpredictable.
    see the godly music as its following is diminished,
    its throne destroyed,
    and displayed as mere entertainment for those "moderne" to all,
    to all but us,
    the great,
    the humble,
    the proud,
    the hated,
    the loved,
    the living,
    the dead,
    the working,
    the ashamed,
    the musicians.
    working towards the music,
    to put it back in power,
    we work,
    i work.

    i guess what im sayin is,
    musics the commander,
    the god,
    and the beggar,
    it is all,
    it is sound,
    and it is great,
    and that all we all want to do is to make it,
    whether were good or not, we wanna make it.
    and so i will,
    through pain,
    through love,
    through hate,
    the pressure,
    ill keep making music till the day my bones dry and the marrow runs out,
    the day my heart stops beating then shrivels then turns to ashes,
    the day my brain stops glowing and shrivels for then to ashes,
    and the day the humble bones of this servant crumbles and are forgotten,
    then ill be free and able to be musical in the clouds above,
    or the fires below,
    ill love and make the music