My December
How can you say that you've put away such beautiful music? That your fingers find no grace when touching each significant string or shaping my emotions with every draw of the bow?
I don't know what this is, exactly but I hear each note in absence and it's tearing me in two. Is it the evanescent ghost of you echoed in the heartbeat of the world?
I can reproduce the songs but it is never the same and that gift is not mine to give. You left your soul behind and though you are many miles faint, the sound in my ears is deafening.
I love and mourn the spirited sensation though you believe it purely physical. How cruel is an instrument without it's master?
I know.....for I suffer in the stead.
I don't know what this is, exactly but I hear each note in absence and it's tearing me in two. Is it the evanescent ghost of you echoed in the heartbeat of the world?
I can reproduce the songs but it is never the same and that gift is not mine to give. You left your soul behind and though you are many miles faint, the sound in my ears is deafening.
I love and mourn the spirited sensation though you believe it purely physical. How cruel is an instrument without it's master?
I know.....for I suffer in the stead.