Good
I know a girl who dyed her hair pink and quit her job with
no two weeks’ notice and met a musician who wore plaid
and had beautiful brown eyes who made her want to play
and she picked up a guitar and wrote a hundred songs in a
hundred and thirty days and none of them were very
good
She hosted shows twice a month and the house was always full
of people who were drunk or high or on something else who had
tattoos and wore dark ripped clothing and said fuck every other sentence
and sometimes they climbed up onto the roof and got sick up there
and there were always musicians playing who weren’t very
good
She met another touring guitarist with curly black hair down to his shoulders
and a beautiful voice who sang nihilist songs that somehow made you
feel alive and when he went to New York she went with and
let herself be homeless and lived at the Occupy Wall Street camps
for I don’t know how long writing protest songs that weren’t very
good
She played them on the subway full of people as downtrodden as she was
sometimes and they all sounded the same and they were all about
rebellion and they all used the same four chords and she told me once
that every single person on the bus was pumping their fists and screaming
along with her hoarse voice with every word even though they weren’t very
good
When her birthday came around she used the last of her money to take a bus
back to Minnesota and she played her bad songs on the bus when she could
and the whole bus sang along too and when she got here she played
a show to celebrate and it was loud and she only used those same four
chords and I too sang along with every word even though they weren’t very
good
And when she got restless she found another musician who was going back
to New York and this one yelled his songs like she did and never washed
his hair and she said where he was going was where her home was because
that was where her heart was and she hasn’t come back and she says she never
will and I just hope she keeps writing those songs even though they aren’t very
good
Because god knows I never could.
no two weeks’ notice and met a musician who wore plaid
and had beautiful brown eyes who made her want to play
and she picked up a guitar and wrote a hundred songs in a
hundred and thirty days and none of them were very
good
She hosted shows twice a month and the house was always full
of people who were drunk or high or on something else who had
tattoos and wore dark ripped clothing and said fuck every other sentence
and sometimes they climbed up onto the roof and got sick up there
and there were always musicians playing who weren’t very
good
She met another touring guitarist with curly black hair down to his shoulders
and a beautiful voice who sang nihilist songs that somehow made you
feel alive and when he went to New York she went with and
let herself be homeless and lived at the Occupy Wall Street camps
for I don’t know how long writing protest songs that weren’t very
good
She played them on the subway full of people as downtrodden as she was
sometimes and they all sounded the same and they were all about
rebellion and they all used the same four chords and she told me once
that every single person on the bus was pumping their fists and screaming
along with her hoarse voice with every word even though they weren’t very
good
When her birthday came around she used the last of her money to take a bus
back to Minnesota and she played her bad songs on the bus when she could
and the whole bus sang along too and when she got here she played
a show to celebrate and it was loud and she only used those same four
chords and I too sang along with every word even though they weren’t very
good
And when she got restless she found another musician who was going back
to New York and this one yelled his songs like she did and never washed
his hair and she said where he was going was where her home was because
that was where her heart was and she hasn’t come back and she says she never
will and I just hope she keeps writing those songs even though they aren’t very
good
Because god knows I never could.