They all watch me as I rise up to the stage, 
Bow in the right hand, viola in the left. 
I place my first note, 
Play it as brightly as I can. 
The note rips through the stage as I place my next note. 
The bright lights burn into my back. 
The eyes of the audience steadily watch me, 
As they look for my next mistake. 
Something that makes them better than I. 
When I finish my piece, 
The older audience starts to clap as I start to smile, 
But the ones my age start to whisper. 
As I go off the stage I hear two words,  
"Show off." 
And hey,  
Call me that all you want. 
But that never makes you better than me. 
By calling me "Show off," 
You just admitted defeat. 
You think that is going to stop me? 

No.

Of course not.

You don’t need to remind me that I'm alone to bring me down, 
Because I have someone better, myself, to be with anyway.  
So just stop, 
And let me play. 
Maybe I'll show you the sacrifices that I make every day.