Oh, to be a musician,
To have an instrument to play,
To pour one's soul into each note,
To let the music have its way.
To release one's pent-up passion,
Be it anger - be it love,
To play with true compassion,
As a gift from God above.
To express one's inner joy,
To let one's spirit soar,
To free one's self to dance,
To sing loudly from one's core.
To tease and please one's inner child,
To relieve and ease one's aging mind.
To soothe and smooth one's secret hurts,
To trap, to free, to lose, to find.
To allow one's heart to burst,
To seduce with notes of love,
To communicate with angels,
To slap the devil's glove.
To do all this with music,
What an awesome, wondrous feat!
Such power in one's fingers,
In one's voice, in one's feet!
To command the world's emotions,
What an international rush!
Just by playing music,
Or ... is the music playing us?