Feeling my way in the dark
not knowing what's real.

that's an old story now.

The lights thin, dim, flash bright
and I wonder, has the night come?
if not it will.

Touchtyping my way making keys
play those tunes that make light of
the day and knowing that nothing's
forever.

She tells me to hang on to the melody.

And we all hang on to something or someone
or am I reading it wrong?