Ah, think! I do play my violin every dawn.
But, you clash and clatter with every instant.
I pluck and I saw my bow across.
Do you not appreciate this melody, love?
This melody be thy seeps of life.
This violin by thy sword and shield against blight.
My accursed madness be at bay by violin and bow,
My music gives me solitude and comfort.
Doth you not understand thy madness?
Doth you not understand thy prison?
My prison of glass and madness,
Where my only escape is with my music,
My violin and my bow I saw and pluck,
This clatter and clutter makes my head ache.
You knew that I played the violin,
You dearly loved that I played,
You loved how I made you dance and spin.
How I made you smile, and laugh, and sing.
All a gift from my violin that you loved.
Why doth thou change so deathly from this melody?
What thinks you?
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