On the days where everything seems more wrong than right;
you stain your fingers with paint so bright your eyes hurt,
then strum chords with them until they bleed.
And once you've done all the damage you possibly could
to the beautiful hands your mother made;
you use them to stem songs out of nervous touch,
on black and white keys in the dark of the night,
as you try not to fuck up more than you already have
with everything you've ever done in life.