I don’t want to die,
Just take away the pain.
Take the words back,
And the melody delays.
The sweet screams,
That calm into cries.
They tell you the truths,
As words may lie.
But sweet guitars speak of life,
And love and happiness.
While flutes may whisper death,
In pain and distress.
And tenors tell it all,
In words of rich deep blues.
But as the music fades
And words have all to loose.
The pain is back, oh the memories
The melody screams again.
A humble disease.
