That well was full
Plenty, for me and you
Showers that weren't yet,
Dried of its scented dew
The windows spared us
Of despair in the August truth
While blood rushed within us
It appeased of a Beethoven's brew
I sighed, "hey you little gamine"
"This is Symphony through and through"
Perhaps even the No.5
But more likely the No.2
And we light that last cigarette
Ash that turned air in a few
What could have been was the discord
As Ludwig shook his head and blew