I woke on the Sunday
To the glorious sound of music
Whistling round my room
And into the very piping of my soul
Cause my father was a dreamer
A listener of all and everything
That was the warmest I felt then
When the sounds splashed against my face
Of course he was completely oblivious
To the lifting it created in my shell
As I snuggled in my quilt
Enjoying the bond it was creating between us