Are more than likely rolling in their graves
As I lay out the melodies by hand
A rocky road, my hands make way to pave.
Come forth, dear fingers, play what's on the page,
And calm thy soul with music to attend
To days where grief strikes in this day and age,
These painful hours, the music strives to end.
One strong chord here, the pain begins to ease
The angsty strife cloud parteth for the sun.
One triad there, my frustration doth cease,
The piece concludes, the therapy is done.
As fingers mine doth burn with my resolve
Frustration hence my ears doth now absolve.
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