The chords keep coming at me
The chords keep coming and in time I figure out what to do with them.
Time takes care of it.
The little, the lot, I know what to do when chord changes fly by me.
I’m talking about rock here and maybe blues and R&B, but when it comes to jazz, it separates me. I try for an identity but the chords keep coming and I feel as though I have to take care of them first, all the while not quenching my thirst. I’m tired at the end because I haven’t expressed those chords through me.
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