Two notes in the upper key.
We fiddle in a C major.
Birds of a feather they could say,
best friends.
Sonata no. 16 is where we are,
In Mozart's muse over glee.
Strumming for you and me.
I wish we never heard the Requiem though.
A D minor in our hands,
dirty from entombing it under the ground.
Our dying sound.
