To the air
When you're not
Here
The air itself
Is melancholy -
It hasn't got you
To wrap itself
Around
And the ground -
It hasn't got you
Walking on it -
It is lonely for your
Footprints
The chair
Wonders where
You are
The arms -
And the footrest -
The empty
Wine glass
On the shelf -
We all cry
And listen to
Andrea Bocelli
Pour his heart out
With symphonic
Backing
I need
Symphonic help here
Some timpani
Some conductor
To tell me what to do
With such feelings
I am new to the world
Of great
Music
