Meet my neighbour- Aspiring,
he claims that he’s an upcoming star.
Sometimes he shreds the metal strings,
sometimes he likes to play the base guitar.
I hear his pals beat the drums at night,
by 3 am he’s done with the drunken show.
We took the siege to the doors of death metal,
when last night’s grogginess turned into furious brow.
Our bangs and screeching never woke him up,
the man-child’s used to the usual symphony.
Only if the use of animal tranquillizers was legal,
his window would be an ideal target practice exigency.