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We write what music’s in our hearts
in manuscript of blood and nerve:
to wrap the primal fish of art
no lesser parchment serves.
None so plainly signifies
the variations we observe:
iubilate, track of fly,
oratorio of gall,
heavy metal lullaby.
Composer, fiddle, fiddler, hall,
we count the quavers, score the parts
to songs we learned when we were small.
3 comments:
Ten silver saxes,
a bass with a bow
The drummer relaxes
and waits between shows
For his cinnamon girl.
~ Neil Young
Sweet arrangement, Carver.
Brilliant bit of composition, John.
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