For one more

I entrench myself in it.
You know, you do it too.

When you shut yourself off from the outside. Or the inside--whichever way you see it. When you share it with yourself, or you share it with the world.Whether you sing along, or you just let it pulse through your skin, your hands, your heart, your sweat, or whatever.

You find the words, and you paint the pictures. You feel the notes, chords, rhythms, and compose your own belief, adventure or relapse.Programming only how loud it seems to you, nothing else is to be touched; it just comes to you.It's when you can listen; it's when you can really hear.

When you're finally where you want to be, whether the clouds, the ballroom or in her arms. When you're lost in that one moment that you know is so special that your fingers grasp until the cloth finally runs away from the creases in your hands. When you can see sound for what it really is.

You breathe it in and hold your lungs tight for as long as you can.
You look into the crowd, smile, take your bow and walk off the stage that one last time.

All you can say is thank you.