"Write my sonata,
I'll give you a tune.
Strum the chords of my sight,
You'll be with me soon.
Snatch the rhythm softly,
Before it breaks.
Don't slow the tempo,
You're making me shake.
Hold my hand like the neck,
So graceful and long.
Please rewrite with the ink,
My strings are not strong."
I'll give you a tune.
Strum the chords of my sight,
You'll be with me soon.
Snatch the rhythm softly,
Before it breaks.
Don't slow the tempo,
You're making me shake.
Hold my hand like the neck,
So graceful and long.
Please rewrite with the ink,
My strings are not strong."
