An A is red.
It'll always be red.
That's what they said.
But at least for me
It's just an A I see.
That's what's in my head.
"It's not that form of synesthesia," I said.
Yet play on a horn or a violin
And suddenly the fireworks begin.
Trombones are blue, flutes always yellow,
The clarinet section are all green fellows.
They match the haze of the choir pale
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