The Music Man
He has a musical instrument
it plays in his head.
Oft it quack's like an oboe,
oft it moo's like a bassoon;
it's also a violin
dipped into darkness.
When he writes, infant angels
wail, demons bleat like lost lambs.
Orchestrations and variation
upon a common theme reiterate
and reply.
Each instrument
a different note on his piano.
Yes, he has a piano
it thumps, it drums,
sometimes it mews
like a gull riding a storm.
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