mind at the proms

each lovely echo of far sound delights
ears are ecstatic as the music flows
into the mind flow many eerie sights
each lovely echo of far sound delights

forgotten now are all the slurs and slights
they're banished far by the first horn that blows
each lovely echo of far sound delights
ears are ecstatic as the music flows

the winning one is never one that shows
all of its tricks within a few short beats
its summer but we see the sudden snows
the winning one is never one that shows

hugely attentive to the highs and lows
beauty all ugliness for now defeats
the winning one is never one that shows
all of its tricks within a few short beats

we're wistful wondering held in our seats
by every trill of clarinet or flute
measure with joy in broken silence meets
we're wistful wondering held in our seats

far from us all the turmoil of the streets
while listening we're firm and resolute
we're wistful wondering held in our seats
by every trill of clarinet or flute

each knowing the most dim and dismal brute
would by this healing sound be set to rights
the need for satisfaction's most acute
each knowing the most dim and dismal brute

here there is peace and absence of pursuit
wolves are not wild and woeful in these nights
each knowing the most dim and dismal brute
would by this healing sound be set to rights