I remember how the song was forged
at a small room where all the sounds merged
The piano, the guitar - creating the melodies as flesh
The skeleton was created by drums, and even bass

The composer composed the line
and the players made it sound divine
The feeling, was crafted in so fine
behind the black glass were producers crying
"so devine..."

But something was wrong
the song the composer had longed for so long
was all wrong
The players' feelings caused it all, they were creating
music
that was not their own
they stoped playing, and left the composer praying
"where are you going? please return" he started sobing
"no more of your cunning, find you own to play folly"
the song was ruined
behind the black glass were producers crying "so deprived
the sign of dollars"
the song was ruined

but the Piano, the guitar, drums and bass
they were overjoyed, and a smile was scorched on their face