Music is best when it is distorted by the clouds. The melody peaks out like the setting sun. Passion oozes from the lightness. Calm repetition of the sea below angles towards the seashell. Trapped between the night and the day, the dark and the light, brief tonality of imperfection within the reality. While an end is certain, the sounds will never stop. And when you move you don't move, no, you don't move. 
So come along lads, ladies, and all those immune to the clinically impervious and enter a palace of genuine geniality. Change is the only promise we can offer up to those willing to forget and pine away. Because as the prophet says
"Nothing happens 'till you try, so come on try"
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