On the final day I die, I want to hold my head up high. I want to tell You that I tried to live it like a song. And when I reach the other side, I want to look you in the eye and know I have arrived in a world where I belong. ~ Switchfoot
~ What Voice is it? ~
All in all it is a place where you wonder if what you heard is from the right source.
A dissonance between what you think is going on and the guilt flooding your chest.
A string strikes tomorrow while you hear it today.
The drum bellows and is lingering while the soul tries to figure out what to do next.
Is it okay to limit what is spoken to you if you are unsure if the source is pure?
Is it right to determine a factor based on self, rather than relying on something that may be untrue?
Clarity is what I seek.
And clarity is what I will find one day.
If I am thinking this hard about the voice, then maybe it was from the correct place?
But I thought it would be a still quiet voice?
This was loud.
This was something I have experienced before and it ended up to be right.
But the other time it was wrong.
Here lies the confusion of the music.
To live it like a song is harder than you think.
When the music comes from multiple genres.
A rock and roll kind of day.
Mixed with a classical peace throughout the night.
But other times that peace is only when I am near others.
And the night becomes a heavy metal link to my brain and my heart.
Taking a chance and distinguishing the flames that have occurred in the studio.
Hoping to be able to lean on others to incorporate more sounds into my song.
I will carry on the beat.
And I need another to help with the rhythm.
Music equals the melody of the soul.
Music is an instrument of the voice.
But what voice am I hearing?
And if I ignore it with something this small, will I be alright?