Watching old home movies, the seeds so evident 
Little did 
I know back then what my tapping fingers meant 
A compulsive urge to hum a tune, to touch a piano key 
In every sound and rhythmscape, 
I found a piece of me 
The picture began to become more clear, my purpose more firmly grounded 
The day I sat at my brother's drums, picked up his sticks and pounded 
I felt the ceiling open up, heart and mind were lifted 
This primal force convincing me, my goals in life had shifted 
Then I learned a few guitar chords just to seal the deal 
The power of music 
I could not ignore, the surge inside me real 
I plucked away at 
Misfits' tapes 'til 
I could play along 
Then came the happiest day 
I've known- when 
I wrote my first song 
A few interruptions since, 
I'm back where 
I belong- pen and paper, sticks and strings, the quest for the perfect song