The piano plays a tune I know,
So close yet far away.
It sings a song for those,
Who've never seen the day.
Music is carried,
Through the wind,
Across the valleys and plains.
For this I know will not be taken in vain.
It could be a sign,
Or a state of kind.
But whichever one I know,
That wherever I'm bound to go,
And whenever I set out,
Music will follow.
 
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