There's a man who plays it straight from the heart and the crystal notes unfold

As he takes the music from its source and wraps it round your soul

And the tunes he plays will always be the sweetest you've ever heard

And every tune he plays for you is a song that has no words


What are these sad misshapen creatures hiding on their shelves

Constricting our ideas and dreams to shadows of themselves

We are tied with language bound by the words, reflections on the wall

A hint of magic an echo of life, when we want to hear it all


I step into the silver stream and try to catch the flow

And hold it still in space and time and never let it go

But it runs away between my hands before it can be heard

And all that's left is a whisper here in my song without words