The pleasure of sounds that comes together in agreement.
No mishaps’,
Just a feeling;
of perhaps’,
A lightly sound of wind,
With a rumble of thunder with rain hitting your window pane.
With a rage of bullets rounds,
Not hearing the dead body hit the ground.

Harmony I hear you loudly,
but you’ll still not clear.
It’s a dead sound upon my ear‘s,
but It’s not around the corner I felted it near.

It provided momentum to your melody.
With a distinctive rhythm from your base line.
Now I hear a sound of a violin, like I’m flat lined.
I guess bad timing.

It’s hard to hear the bottom of the base.
Even though we played together with a slow pace.
I can hear one sound.
And visualized a new face.
It’s a new born baby,
Playing outside the race.
The sound took my life to feel my Harmony‘s grace.