'Tis the remnants of a heart that beats

Beneath the silver curtain of the day

That causes all to stop along their way

And listen to the music he alone repeats.

A master of the notes he plays,

He plays upon his strings, and wings

Of memories long lost and gone away

Return but for a moment to their resting place.

Stories of humanity all told with divine grace,

Mingled with the faith of broken dreams astray

Are led to him who would their virtues share.

With string and song they float along the air

Until the day that death doth claim the man

Erasing all as though he'd ne'er began.