I am an ugly organ,

plink away at my face,

and after a while

I'll sound how you want.

It never made sense to mozart

when the piano began to play itself,

and it won't make a shred of sense to you either.

I am small,

not in size,

just in the scheme of things,

I won't matter in a month,

I WILL be the bird you see once,

smile at,

and forget all at once.

I am a violin,

long necked,

wide hipped,

and easily abused.

You can hold me

to your chest,

and play me like a guitar.

I am a seashell,

awkward, spikey, sharp as hell.

And if you hold me to your ear,

I'll bring peace to your aching bones.

I am an ugly organ,

anything you'd like.