My 70th year I was gifted an axe In the hopes that maybe I'd lay down some tracks I added some gear, bought a shiny new case Then stored it away in its own little space

The shame of it is it’s been over a year The brand new guitar is shedding a tear It sits there, disused, when it’d rather be here Making sweet music to bring us some cheer

The strings are all in tune, it action's divine My fingers are no longer calloused, a sign That I've spent nearly no time trying to play It's something that really should be changing this day

Given that February has a goal I must find that music deep down in my soul A weeping guitar has no place in a hole The new tunes and chords I must now cajole

Picking it up I am stricken with fear What if the music just doesn't appear? What could I play that has not yet been heard? What if the muse within is not stirred?

Away with excuses! Should not be dismayed I have to find out what happens when played The small voice inside me I have to persuade Its negative bent I must now dissuade