The Viola Player’s Funeral

He’s cold in this hollow box
It’s warm on the outside he begs
She’s the only blanket he wants
Followed by a bow to play at courting

Summer has gone away for a while
He feels a key change of the weather
She’s unlocking her viola case and
Reading a mournful note from her lover

Harmonies sing when he’s around
Her heart grows big, her hair on end
The vibrations of love flow up her spine
Through cords of silken electricity

They used to relax into each other’s arms
When time proved to be an illusion
A song that is always there
Kept safe in the instrument of her desire