The music man in my family
Has fingers made of piano keys
I hear his songs
throughout the house
Speaking the language
That bleeds through him
From his father's early
bassoon notes
And mother's late night
flute whispers
And there it is:
The language of the music man
Swirling
Jumping
Freedom sounds
That tinker up the walls
And through the vents
And pipes of our house
All from the piano key fingers
Of our music man.