I'm unfamiliar with such a grand space
And, to be candid, I hadn't even recognized it
Until you entered the scene, taking the stage
I was expecting maybe just a quaint little skit
And then the timbre of your voice carried to me
Your sound is sweeter than a sinfonietta of violins
Played, exquisitely, from St. David's Hall to the Carnegie
And then the percussion hits me like the Shaolins
The sound of it causes me to forget how to breathe
Resonating with truth so deep that dissonance flees
This is your show and though I'm not even an extra
I'm blessed to be in the house--to at least have a seat
Yet, I don't even know your name and there is no need
Because you are more than a melody to me
A graceful ensemble of all good things to perceive
My heart revels in all of your fine harmonies
Your voice alone beats a choral for the heavenlies
And I desire to hear it till the fat lady sings
There are indeed many other such venues
Auditoriums filled with many a beautiful face
But, even there, it's like every movement is just for you
And I find myself humming along to the tune
And this is done rather unconsciously so
It is very unlikely that you can hear me too
I remain haunted by your euphonious speech
Echoing as a phantom of some invisible opera
Tugging at my broken heart's strings and all I can do
Is watch longingly from the balcony, wondering
Who are you? Because your mask obscures my view
And how I wish I could've made the box seats
But even that close to you would be so far away
I am thankful just to see you from "the gods" view
As you weave through your scenes on center stage
You just never relent-- there from beginning to end
Or maybe it's just these Galileans I use for seeing
You're the whole range and I'm just trying to pursue
I must be tone-deaf as I can't perceive any skews
Or maybe you are as perfect as The One you play to
And, to be candid, I hadn't even recognized it
Until you entered the scene, taking the stage
I was expecting maybe just a quaint little skit
And then the timbre of your voice carried to me
Your sound is sweeter than a sinfonietta of violins
Played, exquisitely, from St. David's Hall to the Carnegie
And then the percussion hits me like the Shaolins
The sound of it causes me to forget how to breathe
Resonating with truth so deep that dissonance flees
This is your show and though I'm not even an extra
I'm blessed to be in the house--to at least have a seat
Yet, I don't even know your name and there is no need
Because you are more than a melody to me
A graceful ensemble of all good things to perceive
My heart revels in all of your fine harmonies
Your voice alone beats a choral for the heavenlies
And I desire to hear it till the fat lady sings
There are indeed many other such venues
Auditoriums filled with many a beautiful face
But, even there, it's like every movement is just for you
And I find myself humming along to the tune
And this is done rather unconsciously so
It is very unlikely that you can hear me too
I remain haunted by your euphonious speech
Echoing as a phantom of some invisible opera
Tugging at my broken heart's strings and all I can do
Is watch longingly from the balcony, wondering
Who are you? Because your mask obscures my view
And how I wish I could've made the box seats
But even that close to you would be so far away
I am thankful just to see you from "the gods" view
As you weave through your scenes on center stage
You just never relent-- there from beginning to end
Or maybe it's just these Galileans I use for seeing
You're the whole range and I'm just trying to pursue
I must be tone-deaf as I can't perceive any skews
Or maybe you are as perfect as The One you play to
