I walk to my room when I get home from school,

And the first place I go, is to the beautiful upright piano.

My heart beats to the rhythm of the music I play.

The poetry I write becomes the words to the instrumental lullabies,

Created by my long fingers.

Nothing that I'm thinking about can relate to this world.

This world does not exist as long as I am sitting at that musical box.

As far as I'm concerned, the world is going to end...but not music.

Oh no, my friend.

Music is the only thing in this world that will go on.

When the world stops turning, the air will continue to sound.

The rhythm will continue to be, and the music will never cease.

If God stops the air, the angels will continue to sing.

The music will never stop playing.

Whether the piano stops working, or my body stops living,

The music will continue.

It will proceed in my soul in Heaven, and it will envelop my mansion,

With a calmness that would soothe a crying baby.

It's something that will never leave me.

"Why won't the music stop?"

The music will never stop because I am the music; the music is me,

And my soul will never cease to be.