Death of a Salesman
So, I took my guitar
And I threw down some chords
And some words I could sing without shame
And I soon had a song
I played it around
For some friends, but they all said the same
They said music's for fools
You should go back to school
The future is prisms and math
So, I did what they said
Now my children are fed
'Cause they pay me to do what I'm asked
I forgot all my songs
The words now are wrong
And I burned my guitar in a rage
But the fire came to rest
In your white velvet breast
So, somehow I just know that it's safe
And I threw down some chords
And some words I could sing without shame
And I soon had a song
I played it around
For some friends, but they all said the same
They said music's for fools
You should go back to school
The future is prisms and math
So, I did what they said
Now my children are fed
'Cause they pay me to do what I'm asked
I forgot all my songs
The words now are wrong
And I burned my guitar in a rage
But the fire came to rest
In your white velvet breast
So, somehow I just know that it's safe
Credits
Writer(s): George Alan Sparhawk
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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