Chopin. In B flat minor

We wander and we fall
From the rooftops of a sacred life
But descendants aren’t all
Prone to continue or recur
What was missed before
What we persued and aspired
We hold all the strings in our hands
We can see with open eyes
We see the waves of water
And the eagles fly
But still we stand where we are
We turn our backs to the open sky
We step down
And won’t go up
It’s hard sometimes to see what’s wrong
Know what people need to do
But can’t do anything as an individual
Isn’t it best then
To stand at your window
Turning your back to the sun
Let it burn
Let you burn to ashes
Getting emotionless inside
But not as long as there is music
The minor keys play the tune of today’s society
The pianist lays his anger and pain into it
Broken and no longer saddened
He tries to play the major parts
But deletes them from his mind
They don’t fit to the world we live in
He rips out the pages from the book
But doesn’t throw them away
He keeps them in his piano
For later.