Misty midnight outside of . . . somewhere . . . Glimpses of piano music echo in a void, yet they are somehow near. The notes are hesitant, forgetful; the song, sad and unfinished. The pianist ends his playing for the night. He closes the lid of the piano and shuffles away into the gloom, going to . . . somewhere . . . Tomorrow he will be back, and other songs will grace the newly bright atmosphere.
Join Our E-mail List
Subscribe to Ball of Wax!
Subscribe now!
Help keep this Ball rolling, and get a ludicrous amount of music for a tiny amount of money!