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I save the world Even though it didn't need any saving. Sometimes when I put on some music I wonder what it would sound like If I were a different person. Or how the music would sound If I was the musician Playing myself Or itself playing me I can't be sure. My music isn't made by long haired men With assorted guitars of different sorts. I can't get nostalgic about "those days" On the field with a girl that I don't know Sitting in a car I don't have That I can't afford. My music, however Let's me strut into any room Like a peacock with dark feathers But one that shifts uncomfortably on the bus Wondering if anyone heard. I hope not.Not always, but sometimes, when I put on some music