Enter B minor
I think it's my favourite note
There is melancholy there
A subtle subdued sorrow
Newly rediscovered
Every time

Enter the faceless orchestra
They bear the heavy weight
Of their instruments
As if dragging the dead
They caress the hard black cases
With loving and loathing

Enter Beatrice
In B minor and faceless
She pulls at her crimson skirt
To appease your guilt
And plays her cello
To tear at your already broken heart

Enter the conductor
Dishevelled and heartless
There are spots of blood on his shirt
Where his chest is now empty
Ripped and torn
He's been ravaged, guiltless

Enter me
Who sees it all and smiles -
The faceless orchestra turns to look
But they can't stop playing
Their song reeks of death
And only one note -

B - (minor)