I am an artist
I love music.
I sing like i'm ill.
Music is my only remedy when i'm sick.
When I sing i'm overwhelmed with ecstacy.
I have a bourne-disease,
And that disease is called a Melodic disease.
I can never stop loving my disease.
I'm infected and;
I want no cure to treat it.

Just hearing your voice makes my heart smile.
I wish I could never sing "I miss you" in a thousand miles.

O, How do i love thee.
The one who's spirit is free
The one who's soul lives  in me

Who's back I fear.
Who's name is the only song I
hear
Ay me, dear person.