I must admit I am a cannibal…
my daily bread is Music and her kids.
Delicious, anaesthetizing all my pains,
and satisfying all my famished brains.
My boredom’s killing me so fugues by Bach
delight our ears and satisfy our minds.
We love a taste of Brandenburgs at noon,
and passacaglias just make me swoon.
And nocturnes, fantasies, impromptus, they
destroy all welled-up feelings in a flash.
A bit of Chopin soothes the soul although
a tad of Mozart calms the nerves and woes.
Food for the heart, food for a sullen head.
Good music comes from writers who are DEAD.
This is awesome! I very much like the last line, it's the best! Ha ha! Cannibalism.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, I looked at the last line and I thought, "Wow, how cynical!"
ReplyDeleteBut it's very, very true.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely. :P
ReplyDelete