I have known great tunes before,
Epic songs to move the soul in ballet and bawdy thrash alike.
I have known the clamor of drums,
The whistle through pipes and reeds
And subtle plucks that become passionate performances.
I have known quiet and riot and raucously removed.
I have known dirges to become celebrations that ride high over hills
And low in the valleys where they echo and stay for ages.
I have known every tune, every pitch, every twist through considerate chords,
As I have known you:
Friend, lover, forgiver of every sour note to escape my lips.
There have been several unsuitable songs there,
But you boast of your luck in hearing them,
No matter the base lyrics or the poor warble.
You sing my praises so well, I forget I am your muse.
My name on your lips is the song of all,
Golden, brazen, sweet, and stinging
As it slices all manner of strings,
Giving way to more beautiful music still.