Snare me a rim while you strike that cymbals.
I shall keep the treble of my bass.
Let my tom toms capitulate,
Then only then all backbeat will and would
Accumulate into something I can sink my Hi-hat into.
Scribble that beat into something
My foot can bash the drumming
Sweet savage bass that cannot be beat.
While I try to doodle a rhyme
Where no metre has gone before,
I can make it with or without your backbeat.
Please write me a stanza in a chorus where your refrain makes no quarter,
And leave it all behind a levels of decibels that makes my ear shrivel.
Share a song,
Love me a line,
where my ear would be kind. . .
to listen in,
to hear you say,
make me a new disciple of your way.
Then Believe on the backbeat of a Starr,
Listen to voice from Cash,
and let a Harrison’s guitar
cry each tear ’til,
Bonham comes as zombie animal
so that Plant can wail again.
Tell me a song where
you were the one who gave me
that never sleeps.
And that end of a tune
that do love me the same,
since I came in to that door
and out of that gate.
Where do I lay loyalty. . .
The love where I lay upon each and one of them pretties,
or the love of things I can be a part of.
Which I can share first to my bleeding ears,
and sometimes to those who knows
how to appreciate a tune or just
wild and fine dancing to a backbeat
of a hum.
Then he sang that jolly jingle,
and she did nothing but watch,
and love me and my partner in crime,
. . .
I love you,
you love me,
we’re a happy . . .
I realize what it means
a happy heart can be.
In terms of what of a kiss from Canada,
were I be heavily under in arms of a Seraphine
First of a voice that was Dion.
But what held me was the wind from a Mclachlan.
Then that throat of an Adams.
Seems to me,
their love of what music
can endeavor my mind.
who goes through.
who gets through,
who suffers day in and day out.
I get it
I simply get it,
thing is we needed you when we all go through,
now that you are gone,
who are we to turn to.
We cant simply listen to
crap on crap of crap.
I know music is not going to be same without
pioneers nor a spirit to drive.
So please when you’re up there with
Lennon, Cobain and the others we simply ask,
Give us another one to follow and this time
share their sorrow for all of us.
Dedicated to Mr. Bennington.
Sometimess i feeel I’ve gotto runaway, I’ve gottogettaway fromda pain….
@rtsydhude De las linyas dos’e 2017
Getcha motoh runnin,
Heda outta the hi way
looki fo advenchu .. .
take the world in love embrace,
heavy metal thundaah.. .
Explooo in the spaace… ..
.. .I nevahh wannadie.
-Born to be Wild / Steppenwolf
@rtsydhude De lineas legaci 2017