As I strike my violin with my bow,
You sing words of sorrow.
As I pick up the pace,
You sing tongues of old.
Music drifts in the air,
As the wind blows through our hair.
I look over and see your beauty,
And I realize that I've always cared.
Come with me my darling,
We can make music together always.
As I continue to play my violin,
I hear you stop and see you sway.
xYouthxOfxAxNationx Community Member 
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