I once saw colours on every classroom wall…

 

A palette free to fall without a cause,

the songs we learned to sing without a pause,

the courage found in between the verses,

I walked these halls,

I learned these chords,

I knew how music made us soar.

 

This desk that holds the fate of every child

and has their inner voices reconciled.

I bear this burden, that’s in my hands,

I feel the weight, I see the way,

the ruthless call that I can’t delay,

the price to pay.

 

Times have changed a new generation.

Times have changed

so must I. - for I.

For better, for worse, I own no crystal ball.

Yet, I must try.

 

Times have changed a new generation.

Times have changed

so must I. - for I.

For better, for worse, I do not know.

Yet, a duty I uphold.

 

This letter holds the fate of one quiet child,

and one old friend who sang with me in choir.

I bear the weight of his kind, betrayed eyes.

I knew her voice, I praised his art,

I now must tear their world apart,

the bitter price.

 

Times have changed a new generation.

Times have changed

so must I. - for I.

For better, for worse, I see no better choice,

so I must try.

 

Times have changed a new generation.

Times have changed

so must I. - for I.

For better, for worse, I crush the world I knew.

 

See it through,

this, I must do.

Music has to go. - Music, please don’t go.

I’m sorry, Luna.

I’m sorry, Arthur,

Mister Berns.

My dear old friends.