There are some that dream of flying,
And others dream of sheep
But when I close my eyes, all that I see
Is an imaginary orchestra
Directed by me
The sounds wash over me
Like a soothing spring breeze
The violins swaying like willow trees
My arms sway and the music swells
Crescendoing to a distant tale
Of love and loss and loneliness
That the audience can feel
Then I open up my eyes
And I’m still in my room
Four walls a cage that I want to break through
Someday I hope I’ll see the orchestra in my mind