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Lyrics
ON BREAK WHILE WORKING ON A COMPOSITION IN A PRACTICE ROOM:
Songs jut and start in just beginning bars,
Pause and stop, or flow languidly on in
Sweeping phrases or staccato syncopations
Then halt, and are replaced with something new,
Or not, as they start again. Seven instruments,
Compartmentalized and hidden, playing different
Songs made of distant melodies, all at once,
In a crazy crashing chorused cacophony, a
Wild and lurching howl of discipline and
Contrapuntal concentration, filtering into
My small room from seven other small rooms and
Parts unknown; it is so much like war
That I laugh and then howl, knowing that
Many will hear me, but nothing will be done.
Silence;
I giggle insanely to myself, and resume playing
As, slowly, everyone follows me.
copyright 2002 by Seth Barkan
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