If music be the food of love, today
We settle for a dreadful, processed fare
That leaves us ever wand'ring on our way
And leaves us gasping for the fresher air.
We hunger for the sweet and sav'ry treats
That music once provided long ago;
But when one finds, one rarely ever eats,
Dismissing, as it were, as naught but woe.
But music often sadness does describe,
And not just happiness or lust or mirth—
Yea, music can be bitter to imbibe,
But in that music many find more worth.
And those who search for music free from strife
Will never know the pains of truest life.