“Change the music, will you? It is sad – this song.”

Painfully reminiscent. But not bad – this song.

Ignorance is bliss. Ergo knowledge is melancholy.

Why would you then trade in memory and this song?

“We judge your taste!” – the pretentious music snob.

“One more cappuccino, please!” Yet I stay longer for this song.

He* wrote words can be dangerously “self-referential”!

Meaning sought is philosophy. Meaning lived – this song.

When I work on my computer, J.S. Bach works for me.

I merely wrote those dull scripts. And he wrote this song.

“I know why the caged bird sings!” But not where.

“Everywhere,” I said. “Only the bird is caged – not this song.”

– O.

–

* Douglas Hofstadter

(In the loving memory of Agha Shah Ali. A small tribute to his brilliant and beautiful Tonight – which is rather every night, just idealized by his fine poetry.)