It hasn't been long since I have realized
That these words I use isn't mine anymore
These wonderful string that sprouts
from my airy mind belongs to him
He must have whispered these to me in my dreams
For it is impossible for the incoherent me
To write these words on my own
He must be using some kind of voodoo magic
For what other more logical explanation is there other than that?
For he has now become a part of my music
He is a lyric, a note, a tune, a score,
And no, I don't think he understands just how much music means to me
Even I, don't think I understand just how much music means to me
I mean what could be greater than music?
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