I’ll float on the note of a violin that sings an endless song,
To where, you, are waiting for the flowers to fall,
From her rainbow tinted hair,
Waiting, so you can press them between the pages,
Within the books, you, have written to her.
I’ll comfort the pain inside you,
Overwhelm the noise of your mind,
Till you hear the music I come from,
I’ll take your hand and lead you there.
My strings will hold you fast.
I’ll make you forget her cruelty.
You will become my life’s undersong.