Watching old home movies, the seeds so evident
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Little did I know back then what my tapping fingers meant
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A compulsive urge to hum a tune, to touch a piano key
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In every sound and rhythmscape, I found a piece of me
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The picture began to become more clear,
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my purpose more firmly grounded
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The day I sat at my brother's drums,
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picked up his sticks and pounded
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I felt the ceiling open up, heart and mind were lifted
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This primal force convincing me, my goals in life had shifted
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Then I learned a few guitar chords just to seal the deal
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The power of music I could not ignore, the surge inside
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me real
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I plucked away at Misfits' tapes 'til I could play along
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Then came the happiest day I've known- when I wrote my first song
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A few interruptions since, I'm back where I belong-
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pen and paper, sticks and strings, the quest for the
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perfect song
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-----------------
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The Quest
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| Ten Foot Pole |
