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