Death of a Salesman - Low

So I took my guitar

And I threw down some chords

And some words I could sing without shame

And I soon had a song

I played it around

For some friends but they all said the same

They said music’s for fools

You should go back to school

The future is prisons and math

So I did what they said

Now my children are fed

'Cause they pay me to do what I’m asked

I forgot all my songs

The words now are wrong

And I burned my guitar in a rage

But the fire came to rest

In your white velvet breast

So somehow I just know that it’s safe