Valli in the Clouds

If I lose my momentum in the washed out weekdays

It's because I'm the victim of a mawkish disease

Reliving the heavily dramatized anguish

When the sour notes came out unbearably loud

And thinking about my Valli in the clouds

I'm slowly dissolving in burgundy laughter

When it gushed out freely like songs from a choir

And banished all requiems to faraway cloisters

But was crushed by the heavy hand of a scholar

And now that the voices are no longer endowed,

I'm thinking about my Valli in the clouds

I'm not giving in to this overwrought dolor

Or the growing allure of these destitute sheets

I face each day in preposterous armor

And flourish my sword with balletic feet

But no matter how much I make myself proud,

I can't get around my Valli in the clouds.