There he was again, in the attic,
like hundred times before;
his piano staring at him;
'been such a long time ago;
he gazed him back;
hugged him with his sight;
opened him like porcelain;
into coldish night;
played him like a baby;
little gently, shy he was a bit;
memoirs or complaints maybe;
flops or favorite hit?
singing through the darkest night;
rocking all night long;
till the brightest spark of light;
feeling lifeful song;
then the moment stopped;
left the mind ‘least rational;
and the air got them dropped;
into;
nostalgia passional.