It Wasn't about the Song

You touched my body

You plucked my strings

You knew the words

for you I'd sing

With my whole heart

I showed you everything

and you're telling me

you've been coming here

just to write the song?

-

I didn't need you

to write the song;

it was just an excuse

to sing along, for you

and you knew how I felt

about you all along

I was under your thumb

strum after strum after all

-

I wanted real music

and to make it with you

but I have all that and more

inside of me without you.

-

You knew you didn't want it

so why did you play me

so I would sing that tune?

What is your excuse?

What is wrong with you?

Get your hands off of me

and go find your muse

somewhere else.

-