|
Electronic
synthesizer,
Modern music organizer,
Never being any wiser,
Music critics and advisors.
Music
they have never known,
Played with feeling and home-grown,
Shakes emotions to the bone,
Music that we call our own.
Playing
music by the hour,
In the basement or the shower,
Music that will give us power,
Always sweet and never sour.
Music far
outside the norm,
Helps us to outride the storm,
Though it doesn't fit their form,
From our feelings it was born.
Please
don't judge the way we play,
Or the many things we say,
Black and white is often gray,
We're the potter, not the clay.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
|
