Colour of Music

The birds are in the trees and the music is all free,

The music being played by various artists for me;

So the colour of the music is a rainbow like idea,

Kind of blending in together in a beautiful noise to my ear.


And the voices of the nation are when the train comes into station,

Or the place is over the plains and the people nonstop on vacation;

The plants are in the plan as the planets come round again,

Like he is coming back to water them by rain as sane to gain.


And it's the same thing that you want and need to pass the time,

As the voice sings to the music and the pen is colour in the rhyme;

And it basically continues meaning the more you tend to play and listen,

So that in the reason for the season as the melodies tent to glisten.


For it costs a lot to keep on playing in a continuing loud beat,

As the sound goes down the track when it's like men along the street;

For the rail drowns out the gale when the girl is on the trail,

The wind has it's sound in the music as it seems and tends to fail.


For the regular tick of the clock is like the beat of my heart,

A sweet and harmonious rhythm of the circulation of the smart;

And the colour of the music is like the clarity of the stone,

As your hip and swinging Ipod turns into your iPhone.


The beauty of the behavior is that it can happen anywhere,

And there it is resounding as clear as crystal nearly everywhere;

Like the drum and trumpet play all day within the grounds,

As if he turns up being she as the colour of music is in the sounds.



Different Love