“Madness, my sir, music produces madness.”
Laughter came from all directions, laughter of madmen. The madmen that was chained to the walls and floors and ceilings. No noise was ever more truthful.
The king left his throne, ordered his servants away.
If only I could rage my heart and walk in one day to tell you that I love you.
Tell you my deepest fears. Tell you my most precious songs. What is this fever? Where does this passion come from and where will it go?
I am talking in a manner not known to man, where has my mind gone?
This passion drives me to you.
