notes

i can feel i'm not here anymore

just music

not me

just music

or maybe i'm dancing in circles -could be-

or running through the rye, or the fog, or the oaks

smile to me, and it will be perfect

sing my song and i'll find the way

bare feet, bare heart

in E minor,

it doesn't matter

my strings depend on your fingers

notes notes notes

notes everywhere

symphonies

smile to me

[and it was like for a moment, o my brothers, some great bird had flown into the milkbar and i felt all the malenky little hairs on mi plott standing endwise and the shivers crawling up like slow malenky lizards and then down again. 

because i knew what she sang. it was a bit from the glorious ninth, by ludwig van]