"The notes that had played through the pipes of the organs that were made to create the music that would sound off to the symphony of Time so that the Opera would begin with the singing of Men. This was so easy that it simply was missed by the ones that were so assuming they even had the audacity to believe they could pick up their own flute and tute.
The music that was made that day created such a fuss in the nursery of the unmade they all began to say, nothing at all, it was silent in the fall. The message, so simple, the words so weak, and the understanding so long gave pause to the next song.
Praising the days of the long, listening only to one old song, the sound so distinctive to the only she knew, she waited until she knew. One day, she heard this music not new! It had been so, so long that confusion of the day ruled the Universe that played. However, his song, his lyrics, his genre had never been heard, for you are unable to appreciate a new sound if it is not for your ears. On the day that the ears hear it and say " That is a familiar", bang, a match made, and then you hear. But don't be fooled my friends, Pan is a player and you just insulted a flutist of all time by giving permission to join a group instead of getting the point of the post that was written in a very simple post."
