Song for a Hiding Heart

Sometimes the lights snuff out

And I can't think at all.

Or when I want to cry but can't,

That song gives rest to dry eyes.

Piano strings are plucked

And they cry out for help with the vocals.

The bells and whistles join in the melancholy,

Chiming in with shimmering brass horns.

The bass looms wearily, watching over the

Crescendos, stacked harmonies, and layered hums.

Oboes and organs are tested and united

For the song of a hopeful but crying boy.

In the studio, the young man loses himself,

Letting loose his angelic and ambitious voice.

The sound box shakes with a melting heart

And the tapes spin carefully to catch it all.

His brothers come together for one final melodious prayer

Before they fade into the next track.

That song gives me hope like none other,

Hope to numb my lonesome future.