A child is born with visions of creation
He buries seeds of dreams beneath his bed
Alone at night, he hears the orchestration
A house of keys constructed in his head
The limitations of the world confound him
He craves the boundless music in his mind
Piano scales and melodies surround him
He grows obsessed and leaves all else behind
His house becomes a palace of transcendence
A promised land of sonic wizardry
His kingdom, forged, declares its independence
And all the earth awaits his symphony
But under lurid scrutiny, he stumbles
His immature foundation slowly crumbles
And everything falls apart
The jarring notes are painful to his senses
Much older now -- his life has dealt its hand
He knows his childhood dreams were weak pretenses
But does this mean he has to understand?
