I still feel like a bear slowly coming out of hybernation.
I know a little thing; it’s how to play the guitar Sometimes it takes me little, sometimes it takes me far I’m as good as some, not as good as most I love that I can play it, but do not like to boast.
My social media suffers a lot Too many irons in more than one pot A potential gig wants to see my fans Hopping from the fire to the frying pan.
A concrete world, neon flashing lights, Deep fried dainties on a Saturday night.
These old hands from child to grace Touched the troubled, held in place These old hands hold those I love Angered hearts, fleeting dove.
"Clay Pigeons" by Blaze Foley is a great song. Here are the picking patterns for the song. Have fun
The next day a text, Covid-19 in his chest I canceled all of my students, thinking it best Thinking of anyone who had come into my space Thankfully, outdoors, I wear a mask on my face.
“Ah Ha!” cried the King Of COVID-19, “we have finally made it around the world! People are scared and buying toilet paper, what fools!”
There was a time when you could smoke on a plane Puff in a restaurant to get out of the rain But science reared its noble head And said, second hand smoke increased the dead. So special places were set aside For smokers to run, inhale and hide Judged by…
I like this picture; I like it a lot, It was taken between lessons, I taught. First piano and then guitar did we learn, It’s how I make the money, I earn. It’s a lovely way to spend my day, Listening to my students play. We tap our feet and…