Porcupine Tree - Piano Lessons

The new piece of furniture fit almost perfectly in our home, as if there had been a gap waiting to be filled. I even heard a faint 'click'.

Here's a poem:

Piano

by D. H. Lawrence (1918)

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

Truth is, I wanted to play the piano when I was a child, but we did not have enough money and space. Now my children, who are much more gifted than me, will play. Come to think of it, I need to get back those Phillips headphones;) and assume the role of the sergeant who commands them to play when they don't feel like playing:D

No, seriously. This is the only dream I choose to transfer to my offspring. Every parent does it, one way or another. Hopefully, our life will be filled with more music. Music is best. (Er... I probably said that before?)