To music and to all who have drank from it's bosom
The story of my life can be relayed in lyrics
From pop punk to rap to Anna Nalick,
Eros, storge, philia, agape
The octaves are palates for musical landscapes
All the Kings horses and all the Kings men
Are nothing compared your enchanting zen,
Singing me to sleep and gently shaking me awake,
You’ve guided me through all of my messy mistakes,
And when I fell in love with guitar,
It was when I truly understood who you are,
A consummation of what’s gotten me through seventeen years,
My guardian angel, she’s finally here
And although I blame you for being a hopeless romantic,
I’d rather be disappointed than never believe in magic,
When the boombox in my old karate studio imparts,
“Keep on dreaming even if it breaks your heart”
And somewhere out there, on the other side of the radio
Or someone who is uploading the video
Do they realize how many people they impact?
Or am I just projecting my own life onto their album tracks?
Mirrors are shallow and pictures are puddles,
But chords are blankets and verses are cuddles,
And every universal emotion
Are just the same eight notes in motion
To everyone whos ever sung a note or strummed a chord
The universe loves you and your stories are being heard