Death of a Salesman

Lyrics to a song by Low, that touch me in a big way:

Death of a Salesman

So I took my guitar
And I threw down some chords
And some words I could sing
Without shame

And I soon had a song
I played it around
For some friends
But they all said the same

They said music's for fools
You should go back to school
The future is prisons
And math

So I did what they said
Now my children are fed
'Cause they pay me to do
What I'm asked

I forgot all my songs
The words now are wrong
And I burned my guitar
In a rage

But the fire came to rest
In your white velvet breast
So somehow
I just know
That it's safe

A nice little acoustic number I think a lot of people who have given up on music can relate to. I had it in a collection of songs I was going to burn for someone, along with Trouble by Kristen Hersh, It's Different for Girls by Joe Jackson, Out of Reaches by Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks (the centre piece), Full Moon in My Soul by Robyn Hitchcock, Humble Bee by John Wesley Harding. And a half dozen others. But really, burning a CD of songs is kind of cliche; I deleted the collection.