There was a time back long ago,
When off with my equipment, I’d go.
I’d set up on stage and sing my songs,
Having a grand time all night long.
But back in March, when the virus hit,
My world of music turned into shit.
No more music across the land,
No more guitars held in my hand.
So here at home I did sit,
As many of my students, they did quit.
I continued to write, I started to draw,
I didn’t get out of my pajamas, no not at all.
There’s something magical about being on stage,
It’s like all of the colors come to life on a page.
The chords, the words, the melodies,
It’s the Muse taking control, to do what she please.
A musician lost their place during this time,
A world without music should be considered a crime.
We sing out the windows, we play to our cats,
Oh how I hope that music will soon come back.