At the top of my lungs,
when I’m running on empty,
I exhale a melody from my earnest heart.
Flipping through the catalog,
my ears perk up to a memory of song.
At the top of my breath,
when ghosts come to haunt me,
I breathe out one note just to start.
Scattering about my voice,
the jukebox takes over, and I sing along.
Reflections of bad love affairs and the tears I tasted…
remembrances of my peers who partied and got wasted…
DO-RE-MI-FA-SO-LA-TI-DO, I exclaim!
Looking like an ass in public… so much for shame.
For all the ruts I’ve slept in, this discord won’t win…
my song has only begun.
Running up and down the scales ‘cause discord is a sin,
so let me start at the top of my lungs…
or perhaps from the diaphragm.