I can be the first one--the one that gets picked. I have a unique sound. Many say they want a sound like mine, but not me. Do you realize how frustrating it is to be picked up and stroked only to be put back? It's the varnish, isn't it? My varnish makes my bridge look fat. My F-holes aren't perfect either, are they? My neck feels good, doesn't it? Can you feel the vibrations and harmonics running from me into your own body, into your soul? I felt you quake and weaken at the knee, why deny this?
Go ahead and tune me, but you better just keep moving along. I get so full of hope that sometimes I am sad with it: All the history, the pain, the tragedy. What makes me still hope? Maybe that's what makes me sound so sweet, but also why no one wants the responsibility of making music with me. When their hands touch the bow, rest their chin on my body, and finger my neck, a whole symphony of life comes forth like a cascade of tears and blood. A sound so good that only the best can handle. But for now, I'm just second fiddle.
Does anybody have a freaking clue what I'm talking about?
4 years ago