Here’s me hoping my free man deciphers that he’s the one. Play me, Amadi.
Perhaps I’m finally ready.
Every nerve a string for you to finger but this time the strings won’t make the sound.
Play me, Armani.
I think I really am ready.
The strings, a means to an end; an end when I make sound.
Play me, Carl.
I can do more than snarl.
The sounds I’ll make are a lot more than you think.
Play me, Charles.
There’s more to be heard than snarls.
If only you’ll do it, you’ll realise I can make music.
Play me, Carlos.
I’m not made of asbestos.
I can be what you want in the wild and in the calm.
Play me, Franco.
Make it more than touch and go.
Stay as long as you want. I will bring you no harm.
Play me, Cisco.
I promise for miles I go.
Take your time and my music will play along.
Play me, Francisco.
On this road, there are highs are there are lows.
With every bump, you can change the song.
Play me, Diarmaid.
Do it well, and you might run me mad.
For you however, I can do it all. Including retrieving my sanity.
Play me, Isra.
I give myself, the ultimate offer.
I’ve let it all go. All except you, my love, is triviality.
Play me, Free man.