Intransient

A bright-eyed boy of 17 strolls, carefree, down the lane And peeks into the Brighton pub where The acclaimed jazz band plays The bass strings thumped with tom-drum beat And the vocals echoed loud But that boy heard just one small noise was Absent from the crowd Will he learn Those notes he hears, they are intransient things Or will he be Deadset on another dream With some basic open chords and Mary's Little Lamb The timid lad would soon learn How it was to jam No broken string or calluses Would interrupt his drive One day, he mused that fierce resolve would Bring the crowd alive Will he know Those notes he hears, they are intransient things Or will he be Deadset on another dream With heavy step, he took that stage and Found that cable, long With chilled hands, he fretted a note but In fear that it was wrong That throng ate up his silk-smooth tone and His confidence increased And at last that Brighton boy had Fully tamed the beast Does he know Those notes he plays, they are intransient things Or will he be Deadset on another life Where he ponders what could be I know for sure that won't be me That won't be me