The piano is playing now
Because the violin is dead
Notes sailing in stalling wind
Rustling through this empty attic
Can you hear me past all the glass
Of these jagged broken windows?
Or is my voice lost and tangled
With these badly tuned, dancing notes?
Echoes of the surrounding world
Bask tiredly in the sunset
As memories await their doom
Like soldiers in a losing war
And at the moment, hope only
Lives in two very far places;
Heaven and this attic
Because distress has choked the earth
To a point where it gasps for air
Troubles tie bows around each heart
Then we pull at the ends so we
Can squeeze the blood into our palms
But no, never on this top floor
Where horrid music creates shields
And dusty walls form your armor
As light shines on the arched ceiling
Because the sun has sunk that low
Time to take my hands off the keys
And put my consciousness to rest
I will wake up if the wind does
But right now the sun dies in the west

 
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