Try to keep in tune with score.
C, D, G, C.
It's just so simple, you must agree.
Pound, pound, clank, clink.
Gahd kid, you sure do stink.
Can't take no more, no more of this.
Another bloody cacophony, sans bliss.
Pedal, pedal, to the mettle,
sounds worse than my shrieking tea kettle.
No more, no more, of this I sigh,
just poke me, Ludwig, right in the eye.
*For the Mag
