Come my children.

Come my biys and girls, and my women and household and intimates.

Now the performer launches his nerve….he has passed his prelude on the reeds within.

Easily written losefingered chords! I feel the thrum of their climax close.

My head evolves on my neck,

Music rolls, but not from the organ….folks are around me, but they are no household of mine.

 

These lines meant the most to me because they were the only ones I could find that related to instrumental music. Being a former band dork, I felt somewhat obligated to pick them. ^-^’

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