Air guitar (poetry)

When I was young I loved the flowers and the Sun
I loved the mountains and the fields I loved the forest
I used to play my guitar by the light of the stars
And hear the voice of the breeze sing in the trees.

Then there came a day I didn't have the heart to play:
Guitars are made of wood, for the wood they kill the trees
I thought I'd have to give up music
But I didn't want to lose it
Then I realised what I had to do:

To save the trees I played guitars made of air
Guitars made of air to save the forest.
Guitars made of air
So the trees might be spared
Guitars made of air to save the world.