You’re like a beautiful tuned piano and I’m like an old beaten up Fender Strat.

You’re clear and beautiful and I’m sharp and rough.

Your songs talk about love and happiness that lasts forever with no complication.
Mine talk about heartbreak and sadness mixed with a heavy dose of alcohol.

You belong with the elite with bright futures ahead of them, like yourself.
I am part of the misfits who die before the legal drinking age.

You think we’re all uneducated fools who have no futures.
We think your kind are a bunch of stiffs who will never see or enjoy the world the way we do.

Even though we come from two totally different walks of life,
I reckon you and I could make the most beautiful music from our two genres.

Could we?