A pang of regret.
You know what?
As I sit here (not doing anything I should be doing) listening to Lover's Waltz and I think
I want to make someone cry, the way I'm crying now.
I want someone to feel the way I am feeling right now.
I want to play like they are playing now.
And now I regret all those times I should've been practicing, but didn't. I
used to love The Beast, what happened?
I used to play for the enjoyment of playing, but now...
there's nothing. I just feel burdened when I play it now.
I've abused the poor thing. Scratch marks, crusted over rosin on the strings.
I miss loving to play.
As I sit here (not doing anything I should be doing) listening to Lover's Waltz and I think
I want to make someone cry, the way I'm crying now.
I want someone to feel the way I am feeling right now.
I want to play like they are playing now.
And now I regret all those times I should've been practicing, but didn't. I
used to love The Beast, what happened?
I used to play for the enjoyment of playing, but now...
there's nothing. I just feel burdened when I play it now.
I've abused the poor thing. Scratch marks, crusted over rosin on the strings.
I miss loving to play.