Oh what sound
The opening of those clasps
And the mixed smell of metal and cotton
As the lid is open to reveal its contents
Such shiny golden color, with its rainbow glints
And silver rods strategically placed
To make a mechanism of pure grace
Its silver circles hover over distinct holes
Just a push or a lift, and your melody flows
A neck strap must be worn
To hold it like a new born
And to project out its bell-shaped form
To the audience, to the fellows, or to the room, during a storm
The alto plays great, absorbing my taste
Any jazz, any blues, let nothing go to waste
Such bliss the music that teases my soul
It purges my problems, my sorrows in a hole
It locks it up and discards the key
Even though you know it’s temporary
Its job is done, you dismantle it
Each put in its place, bit by bit
The feeling stays lingering
Your jaw is even tingling
It doesn’t matter, it was all worthwhile
To even play just for a little while