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.