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Writer's pictureHans Ebert

My Father Played Piano

My father played piano

He was the first person I heard sing

He might not have been perfect

But he taught me musical things

About chords and swing

and what goes in a song

Took me down that Moon River

And introduced me to Lena Horne


My best friend played guitar

I watched a kid write his own songs

They came together so naturally

And the ideas flowed on and on

His songs were full of stories

and about life lessons

They were journeys of discovery

And one inspiring jam session


Music’s got no shape

And music’s got no form

But it can still take you

wherever you wanna go

Without slowing you down

It’s something that’s

inside of you

It cannot be defined

But when you hear it

come out in song

All the stars are somehow aligned


I once knew a little girl

I even gave that girl her name

I haven’t heard from her in ten years

Guess nothing stays the same

But I still have my memories

And still have my songs

They give me something

to carry with me

That doesn’t make this life

so empty and long







Copyright © Hans Ebert

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