low
death of a salesman
So I took my guitar And I threw down some chords And some words I could sing  Without shame And I soon had a song I played it around For some friends But they all said the same  They said "Music's for fools You should go back to school The future is prisons and math." So I did what they said Now my children are fed Cause they pay me to do what I'm asked  I forgot all my songs The words now are wrong And I burned my guitar in a rage But the fire came to rest In your white velvet breast So somehow I just know that it's safe 