Music's Careful Manipulation

One gigantic metaphor, and something I'm very proud of.

Sit alone with my guitar,

Tel him my secrets and let him fade my scars,

He’ll tell you it’s worth it good music comes from good pain,

Capture the moment and write until it’s tame,

Heaven’s a really nice fantasy,

We’re all afraid of our hands coming up empty,

Because hell’s not the start and not the end,

It’s the catalyst we can’t comprehend,

Music’s my religion, my capital, my look,

So I’ll pay you in rhymes and die on the hook,

The melody transpires, it heals my soul,

It burns some bridges but built them in whole,

You forgive the anger and train the beast,

Hide it beneath layers of pure and clean,

Cause if anyone sees the problem they’ll look for a solution,

The problem is music is the only form of execution,

So find a guillotine made of lyrics,

Cut the notes’ heads and leave the bodies near it,

Not everything’s so somber, love can prevail,

But if you let in the tragedy it will always avail,

I am my sick master’s tragic glass doll,

I am so filled with emotions and shatter on call,

With glass you can rebuild and rebuild but it’ll never look the same,

Pieces turn to dust but will always have the same name,

So whisper my name even when the pieces don’t fit,

Whisper my name though my mind’s not equipped,

I may look on the outside how you know me to be,

But god I feel different than how I seem,

The chorus is killing and the beat’s the martyr,

If the heroine doesn’t do it, just give up your honor,

The 27 club is never full,

Talent tallies up those young death tolls,

If your ego begins to overrun,

Just swallow more lyrical drugs,

Nothing too good, nothing too quick,

Just enough to make it stick,

The emotional upheaval will leave you rhyming,

Just count the beats until you have perfect timing,

The bassist won’t play and the drum’s off beat,

You’re running on nothing and shooting up speed,

The therapy’s not helping, and the chemicals can’t keep you alive,

You’ll go solo with a lack of trust on your mind,

The songs become darker, the cover-art wrecked,

You’re partying too hard and missing sound check,

The emotional struggle has been set free,

The artistic side has become your identity,

You’ve lost all control and guitar, he can’t make you see sense,

And after all the stamina your numbness is dense,

So if the trials tribulate,

And all the problems began innate,

Can your talent survive this place,

It’s never happened in this race,

History challenges your living alone,

Your talent predetermined you’d die in this tone,

You’re a medical marvel while you still breathe,

Amazing talent equates the death of the lead,

The passion plays up your rocker image,

The hardcore fans become your lineage,

Manson can be blamed for any occurring anarchy,

But your whole life has been lead maniacally,

You’ve lost control of the things you say,

You’re not leading a nation; you’re losing your name,

Your crimes aren’t paid for, the judge acquits,

But the warnings and finger shaking can’t make the morals stick,

You know you’re ruining the life that you built,

The music’s no longer carrying you, you’re just walking on stilts,  

The public can’t remember, they don’t know your name,

You’re waking in gutters without cameras or fame,

You’re alive longer than anyone expected,

Living at thirty because the game’s not ended,

You think you might finally win, here at level one-hundred,

You know the characters, and are the best gunman,

The fanatics still own your records,

And best hits gets produced without your presence,

So when you return home at the end of the night,

You remember when you house used to have light,

But it’s still so big, but so damn broken,

No one comes here now, no one knows him,

Because he was once the face of the crowd,

But now he’s just another one in a room screaming loud,

His band-mates killed the friendship when he gave up on them,

So he’s all alone in a world finished with him,

But it doesn’t matter now, there’s one thing left,

A piano in an empty room as full as his head,

He sees the lines staining the big blank walls,

And the bars of music screaming through the quiet halls,

It’s exactly as he remembers, his fingers easily finding the right notes,

The lyrics are open and honest, taunting the parasite as much as the host,

He’s exposing himself to heal what’s inside,

Not doing it to remind the fans he’s alive,

He’s regaining his childhood, remembering the first time he plucked out a chord,

Knowing in life, it’s the only memory he’ll hord,

He gives in, this once, to the crimes of his living,

Declaring and uncaring to the thoughts he is sifting,

It’s over now, he knows he’s almost there,

But he’ll keep playing for hours, because stopping scares,

He thinks nothing will come from this moment’s reprieve,

He will die the way he was born, unknown and weak,

But the truth is more shocking, an event he hadn’t seen coming,

The song will be a hit, doling out funding,

He’ll record more things, working toward fame again,

And nearing the top it will all end,

The new fans are gaining passion, the old ones will have rallied,

And while some are buying posters his blood will be trailing,

The doctors say it’s insane, chances one in three million,

Crazy freak incident, spontaneous aneurism,

There’s no speculation of drugs, the diagnoses too sure,

The public will never know what tragedy was his core,

How he had lived to prove them all wrong,

Had nine thousand regrets and never fixed one,

Finally learning to forgive himself and cope,

He died when, for the first time in his life, he had hope

Reviews

[Kaylor Mason]

Sounds like the life of too many rock stars in our day and time. Most rockers don't make it past 30. I really believe if you showed this to an old rockstar, he'd read it and say "Yep. That's my life." A glorious, glamorous, sad, tragic tale. Always tinged with one bit of hope . . . you'll always have the music :)

[P.S.Chance]

I am so impressed with this piece and I thank you for sharing. I believe your talent is great.

[MoriartyMesa]

And all of this in one glance, while he tunes his guitar