The Life of a musician
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All along, he was memorizing Handel
The way he taught himself to worship
Fullness, Alberti bass...
That perfect
Wrong chord with one too many g sharps.
The way I breathed through his wax paper lungs
Come walk with me a while
Watch why I do the things I do
In the end you will surley see
Your missunderstandings will become clear to you
You only see the hours that I'm gone
