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Watching old home movies, the seeds so evident
Little did I know back then what my tapping fingers meant
A compulsive urge to hum a tune, to touch a piano key
In every sound and rhythms cape, I found a piece of me
The picture began to become more clear,
My purpose more firmly grounded
The day I sat at my brother's drums,
Picked up his sticks and pounded
I felt the ceiling open up, heart and mind were lifted
This primal force convincing me, my goals in life had shifted
Then I learned a few guitar chords just to seal the deal
The power of music I could not ignore, the surge inside
Me real
I plucked away at Misfits' tapes 'til I could play along
Then came the happiest day Iâve known- when I wrote my first song
A few interruptions since, I'm back where I belong-
Pen and paper, sticks and strings, the quest for the
Perfect song
- Album:
- Subliminable Messages
- Bad Mother Trucker
- Satanic Surfers - Ten Foot Pole (Split)
- Insider
- Unleashed
- Rev
- Miscellaneous
- Swill
- Punk Goes Metal
- Short Music for Short People
- Punk-O-Rama, Volume 1
- AMP Sampler, Volume 9
- Punk Story
- Punk-O-Rama
- Setlist
- Punk-O-Rama, Volume 3
- CMJ New Music Monthly, Volume 67: March 1999
- Punk-O-Rama, Volume 4: Straight Outta the Pit
- Eventually Everybody Gets an Epitaph
- Punk-O-Rama, Vol. 3