I have clarity. It's vision I lack. It's clear to me what I want to do, but seeing how to do it is so damn hard. Chords don't fit, my voice can only make melodies if I've heard it before, and words make no sense. I don't even know what I want it to sound like. How do I get past cliches and love, how can I make my Stairway? I don't need problems, I just want to take a void and fill it with something that means something.
My capo is not a solution, it's only here when the notes are too low.

Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings

I see an answer in my head, but what it means fills me with dread.
Dare I cease to make my music heard? Quit behind, unsatisfied with words?
Influence is less like beauty, more like taunting with aspirations and hopes all haunting.
Never meant to make me cry, but if I can't make that am I forced to buy?
What's the difference between mine and others? Do I really want another cover?

Who am I to solve the problem?
I am nothing but a guitarist with a poem.
But that's not as small as you think it is,
For my voice will fight to keep its home.