Tap tap, all instruments rise
We want them to feel our
First emotion of welcoming
Joy and elation, so we swell
With strings of sweet serenade
Swirling the soundwaves within
This hall till all are at peace
Then the verbrato of looming
Excitement, it's coming with
Every trill and then
The percussion of a thousand
Stampedes! Crashing, riding
On every beat, in sync with
The heartbeats that course
Through your body, keeping
You alive, alive, alive
Now, they will feel our
Burning desire, deepest
Angers, most craven fears
All within this simple score
Written out of nothing
But blood, sweat and tears
And then the lone piano
Quietly dispells a tiny plea
To be heard amongst
All the noise
Rise, take a bow. It's over
Studio B
- Mark
- When you need to wake up in the morning, and set the right mood for the day, when you need to escape from the overwhelming everything of life. What do you turn to? How do you describe your core without speaking aloud, without having to talk to someone about it? This is how. Music. Lyrics. Poetry. Do you feel it? Do you? It's here, it's everywhere, locked within you, within the most tone deaf of us. It's begging to be released, become unleashed in a tearing chord, a crying melody, soulful harmony, dying lyric. You feel it yet? It's concealed here, within every word that I write. This is my release. I want you to see it, to feel it with me. This pure expression of every tangible and imaginable emotion known and unknown to man. To me. Welcome to The Window.