They sit at the back
Hope to remain ignored
Surrounded by the
Of another crude creed
Ears pricked, faces lowered
And poised to panic
They await my signal
As the concert begins
Trying to learn sweet music by numbers
Is driving me nearly insane
For what beauty reaches the listener’s ear
If the whole does but total refrain?
What passion may lie in the breath of a sigh
Where the singer but counts up to four?
It may have been writ so, but ’tis not a bit slow?
Music equals more than the score.
I’m doing my utmost to do the notes justice
And hope the composer’d be proud
To hear such life given to what he had striven
To write down when sung out aloud.
Yet I crave your indulgence – I mean you no harm
And I hope my performance will cause no alarm
As you’re paying to hear me sing these lines tonight,
I’ll be doing them my way – so please do sit tight
And reign in your tongue, hark ere you criticize
Or the beauty may strike you right between the eyes.