When you love music by a survivor
You love what could have been,
The hidden potential of notes unplayed,
The dashed dreams of 1,000 wannabes

Screaming at the gate of a show
That will never happen again.
But your survivor rises from the ashes,
A phoenix with the same hope

That you felt the first time you heard
“Smells Like Teen Spirit,”
On the college radio station
Driving to work that day in 1991,

When you wondered, already jaded,
If anything would sound new again,
And then there it was
And then there it went,

You heard on the radio
Driving home from another job,
In another town, and you thought,
This is how it felt

When you heard John Lennon was killed
On the radio, again,
And the album he had just released was called
Double Fantasy, but it seemed now

Like double tragedy
And the end of time
And the loss of everything.
But there will always be those

Who rise from the ashes and sing
The countless notes unsung,
That were really already in the wind
Anyway . . . Nevermind