Surrounded by the clutter of life’s unyielding scheme,
you may hear his fingers flutter...
as his rhythm finds a theme.
Then, as if from nowhere, his rhythm finds a rhyme.
His instruments obey him...
as they march in perfect time.
Harmony is the air he breathes,
Some pass by the empty shell...
He finds the priceless pearl.
hears the rhythm of the sea.
And wraps his love in melodies...
to share with you and me.
in this, his private world.
He sails on a different ocean,
