Being made to feel like a discarded guitar, something to play with that doesn't really mean anything.
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Mahogany Heart

You played on my mahogany heart,
tightened the cords, made cooing an art.
Strung me along--
with an old song,
a melody …
mahogany.
You left my heart broken, in splinters,
a discarded old piece of furniture.
You did me wrong--
strung me along--
with an old song
a melody …
mahogany.
Rubbed the wrong way, polished to a sheen.
I was naďve; you were simply mean.
I sprang, spring sprong!
You did me wrong—
strung me along—
with an old song
a melody …
mahogany.
Improperly kept, turned bitter, cracked,
tired of your foolin’ ‘round, being smacked,
Broke on your song.
I sprang, spring sprong!
You did me wrong—
strung me along—
with an old song
a melody …
mahogany.
The crowd went wild when you threw me out--
parted, a souvenir, there’s no doubt
mahogany
(the heart of me)
infinity
lives eternity
strung all along
in an old song
a melody …

mahogany.