Physical Performer

I’m the kind of musician

Who takes the position

That music should lay bare your feelings.

I just want you to feel

Something solid and real,

Raw emotions, unveiled, revealing.

***

If my lyrics of passion,

Elicit no reaction,

I feel I do my audience wrong,

For I want them to leave

Truly saddened and grieved,

Wholly aching and pained from my songs.

***

Oh I want them to cry!

Runny nose, bleary eye!

When I lift my guitar from its case.

So I give them mournful words,

One or two minor chords,

And some sharp fretboard slaps to the face.

***

Music these days,

Is impersonal, staid,

There is no bond, no magic, no awe.

But they sure tear up quick,

When I put down my pick,

And sock them right under the jaw.

***

In this way we connect,

And feel music’s effect,

On a tactile, tangible plane,

Though my lyrics have charm,

With a couple stiff-arms,

Only then do they sense what I’m saying.

***

Yes, it’s true some do think

My performance technique

Too physical, up to that I will own.

But though I am quite the bard,

It has proven quite hard,

And I’ve given up trying,

To get my audience crying

Through sad lyrics and melodies alone.

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