Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home...
I had been consumed in my scribblings, jotting down music notes for the past day and half, when I heard Christine... my beautiful, crystal voiced child, calling to me. She was pleading for me to come and sing to her, which I hadn't done for the time that I spent working on Don Juan Triumphant. Her perfect song-like cry rang through the room, even though it had carried all the way from above the ground. But if I wanted to hear her voice, it was hardly a challenge to make it so.
"Angel of Music! I wish you were here, please, teacher, sing with me!" Christine begged me to come to her.
When you call my name it's like a little prayer
I'm down on my knees, I want to take you there
In the midnight hour I can feel your power
Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there...
Her soft voice made my heart melt. I had indeed fallen in love with her, and I would do anything for this sweet, naive child. I would stop writing Don Juan Triumphant; my life's work, for this small, powerful woman who's voice made the angel's cry.
I spun around in my chair, making my way swiftly out the door and through a tunnel towards the mirror which was our only source of communication. What I loved most about Christine, had to be the way she called me her Angel of Music. She thought I was an angel! But I was far from it. Though close to Christine, it would make any man feel lucky enough to be an angel.
I hear your voice, it's like an angel sighing
I have no choice, I hear your voice
Feels like flying
I close my eyes, Oh God I think I'm falling
Out of the sky, I close my eyes
Heaven help me...
I neared the mirror, glancing out at Christine who could merely see her own reflection if she tried to look at me. To show I had finally entered, I began to hum a few notes - simple, yet coming from my lips was the most beautifully sung chord in all the world. I knew why Christine thought I was an angel, it was because I sang like one. But she was more of an angel than I would ever be, for she was my need to sing like an angel, just... for... her...
Like a child you whisper softly to me
You're in control just like a child
Now I'm dancing
It's like a dream, no end and no beginning
You're here with me, it's like a dream
Let the choir sing...
"My Angel of Music," Christine sighed, her smile a billion dazzling, sparkling jewels, I would trade for all the riches of Persia. Her gleeful eyes warmed me to my very fingertips, and I sang for her with all my heart, my soul devouring her wonderfully perfection and transferring it out of my lips.
Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there
Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery
Just like a dream, you are not what you seem
Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there...
"Christine, show me your improvements from the time I have left you with! Sing for me," I called sweetly to her. She took a deep breath and sang like an angel, and with every further note, she sounded more gorgeous and Prima Donna-like, filling my ears and heart and soul with such a power that I felt I would be able to live on forever. When she finished, her voice rang for a while, sinking slowly back into hiding, as she came back into her reality, to me.
"Exceptional and perfect, Christine. I have taught you well. I am, so very happy with you." I breathed.
I did, love this child.
Just like a prayer, I'll take you there
It's like a dream to me...
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home...
I had been consumed in my scribblings, jotting down music notes for the past day and half, when I heard Christine... my beautiful, crystal voiced child, calling to me. She was pleading for me to come and sing to her, which I hadn't done for the time that I spent working on Don Juan Triumphant. Her perfect song-like cry rang through the room, even though it had carried all the way from above the ground. But if I wanted to hear her voice, it was hardly a challenge to make it so.
"Angel of Music! I wish you were here, please, teacher, sing with me!" Christine begged me to come to her.
When you call my name it's like a little prayer
I'm down on my knees, I want to take you there
In the midnight hour I can feel your power
Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there...
Her soft voice made my heart melt. I had indeed fallen in love with her, and I would do anything for this sweet, naive child. I would stop writing Don Juan Triumphant; my life's work, for this small, powerful woman who's voice made the angel's cry.
I spun around in my chair, making my way swiftly out the door and through a tunnel towards the mirror which was our only source of communication. What I loved most about Christine, had to be the way she called me her Angel of Music. She thought I was an angel! But I was far from it. Though close to Christine, it would make any man feel lucky enough to be an angel.
I hear your voice, it's like an angel sighing
I have no choice, I hear your voice
Feels like flying
I close my eyes, Oh God I think I'm falling
Out of the sky, I close my eyes
Heaven help me...
I neared the mirror, glancing out at Christine who could merely see her own reflection if she tried to look at me. To show I had finally entered, I began to hum a few notes - simple, yet coming from my lips was the most beautifully sung chord in all the world. I knew why Christine thought I was an angel, it was because I sang like one. But she was more of an angel than I would ever be, for she was my need to sing like an angel, just... for... her...
Like a child you whisper softly to me
You're in control just like a child
Now I'm dancing
It's like a dream, no end and no beginning
You're here with me, it's like a dream
Let the choir sing...
"My Angel of Music," Christine sighed, her smile a billion dazzling, sparkling jewels, I would trade for all the riches of Persia. Her gleeful eyes warmed me to my very fingertips, and I sang for her with all my heart, my soul devouring her wonderfully perfection and transferring it out of my lips.
Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there
Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery
Just like a dream, you are not what you seem
Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there...
"Christine, show me your improvements from the time I have left you with! Sing for me," I called sweetly to her. She took a deep breath and sang like an angel, and with every further note, she sounded more gorgeous and Prima Donna-like, filling my ears and heart and soul with such a power that I felt I would be able to live on forever. When she finished, her voice rang for a while, sinking slowly back into hiding, as she came back into her reality, to me.
"Exceptional and perfect, Christine. I have taught you well. I am, so very happy with you." I breathed.
I did, love this child.
Just like a prayer, I'll take you there
It's like a dream to me...