The composer, she sits in her lounge chair
She scrawls on the paper with her quill pen
Breathing life in the notes on the page
She reaches a chord.
"Did I write that?" she thinks to herself
Evidently, she did…but now?
Now it seems clunky on the parchment
Sour to her sensitive ears
The chord needs to go
"What to put in its place?" she wonders.
She wants to get rid of the harsh note
But that would leave the other one
Alone, naked, soulless
Empty in relation to the flowing harmonies around it.
She knows the perfect note to accent the lone one
The perfect pitch
The string bass to the flute
But that's not quite right either
It goes well with the color of the piece…
…but now that she mentions it
She kind of likes the old chord
It's weird, it's bizarre, it's not right
But it has a unique ring to it.
However, what she likes isn't relevant
This piece is a commission
It has to be picture-perfect
She's got to tailor-fit this to the buyer
The buyer wouldn't like that chord there.
She'll replace it with the perfect note.
Yes, that's what she decides to do.
She makes the change on the paper
But she still feels a little bit bad
She likes the note of the chord,
But not in relation to the piece
It just doesn't fit.
She replaces the old chord with the new one
The song sounds freer now
Happily, the composer sits back in her lounge chair.
She doesn't realize she just orchestrated the breakup.