I don't just hear the rhythm.
My heart improvs the beat.
Give and take with half and whole.
Feel the ebb and flow.
With closed eyes, I see
clearly.
My ears understand
the language of the staff.
True relationships only exist
between instruments.
Music is my soulmate.

the terminology of giveaways under hot mics
prevent service, use dust pan
these emperical methods of stoichiometric pharma
pocket jockeys lack iterations?

proverbial typists conquer barrio improvs or something
else happens in los angeles, yet to the state senate the hehaw device