Watching old home movies, the seeds so evident Little did I know back then what my tapping fingers meant A compulsive urge to hum a tune, to touch a piano key In every sound and rhythmscape, I found a piece of me The picture began to become more clear, my purpose more firmly grounded The day I sat at my brother's drums, picked up his sticks and pounded I felt the ceiling open up, heart and mind were lifted This primal force convincing me, my goals in life had shifted Then I learned a few guitar chords just to seal the deal The power of music I could not ignore, the surge inside me real I plucked away at Misfits' tapes 'til I could play along Then came the happiest day I've known- when I wrote my first song A few interruptions since, I'm back where I belong- pen and paper, sticks and strings, the quest for the perfect song