Lyrical Predicament

This morning I woke up inside my acoustic guitar. On a poetic level that sounds romantic, but it was actual and uncomfortable. I tried shifting my way out of the sound hole in the front of the guitar, but there was no room to maneuver an escape. I got frustrated and thought of kicking my legs through the guitar's wooden walls. But it was a really good guitar and I didn't want to damage it.

I didn't know how this happened. I went to sleep in my bed. My guitar was in my kitchen. But then I thought even if I figured out how it occurred, how would it help me out of the predicament?

What ended up happening was my dog, Burt, came into the room and saw me in the guitar. He came up and began licking my face. This loosened things up so my head came out the guitar's aperture. He kept licking me and eventually I slid all the way out.