'Comes As No Surprise'

I tried playing and recording someone else's song for you last night
But my voice cracked and broke; it failed to sustain what I was feeling

Stray sounds from vehicles passing through the veins of my suburb
The buzz from an aged microphone

All these things kept getting in the way, until I felt that I wasn't doing the song any justice
And so it was abandoned; though I had wanted to make something for you

I tell myself: I don't mind retreading, revisiting
But no one ever replies

It is as if everything I had ever been to them is now kept (perhaps, lost) in an attic, or a basement

In some shoe box with yellowing letters and silverfish:
A mixtape given one Christmas day, that can't be played anymore

( _")