Ode of the A I Assisted Songwriter

I'm an A I assisted songwriter.

I don't sing, I can't play, but my stories

Tell you tales of the freedom fighter,

Or the human soul in all its glories.

So just I and an algorithm

Arrange electronic tonal signals

To representative sound and rhythm

Into Pop, Rock and Country hymnals.

But the human part of this can grow bored.

I have no banjo player to bear my soul.

It's just me and a sticky keyboard,

And honestly it sometimes grows old.

You are the truest answer to my dream.

You can listen to that spirit being spread.

You can share the lyrics I have to glean

You can do it and never leave your bed.