I am the old soul muttering from the back row. My voice wears boots and occasionally trips over them. Give me a reed and I will grumble beautifully. When the orchestra gets serious, I bring the eyebrows.

Captain jack sparrow and Beatrix la strange..... Are carnivorous cutters in harmonious range..!

I gently weep when certain bugs come calling. My neck has frets, though worry is not my style. Heroes make me sing, lovers make me lie. Pick at me enough and I will tell your favorite stories.

Three wishes are yours when you set me free, but choose every word with care when you bargain with me.

You can come out of me without ever going in You may go inside me to not be found out You may stand before my abundance and still find I may not contain anything.