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The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 1, BWV 846-869 / Prelude & Fugue in C Major, BWV 846: I. Prelude

de Piano Peace

All armies bear their losses, yet still they rally on.
The fanfare may be muted, the spirit may be gone.
And Troy was devastated by an accident of greed.
I knew that you were taken; a book I should not read.
But the sun danced in your shadow like the mocking of a bird.
And I was dragged down to your depth.
And I clung to every word.
You're a statue in my past.
You are stone amongst the grass.
Byzantine and cold but never growing old.
And the clouds pass over Europe as the night, it battens down.
I am drinking in the backroom of a bar of some renown.
And I'm thinking how I lost you, how I let go of your hand. Your last words wore a sadness. You were drowned out by the band.

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