They were just words, after all, but words delivered with such a level of measured precision that you knew there was an abyss lying beneath. Ever so often these lyrics would be accentuated by a sigh, a purse of the lips, and a gaze into the empty distance. "Play one of the early numbers!", one might be tempted to say, imploringly, but there was no turning back. I knew this leaf would not, could not be turned; the singer could only hum the lines she was dealt. So I had to listen to that melody as it evoked a strange mix of nostalgia, sorrow, and helplessness in me. On consideration, one could not help but wonder that maybe - maybe - this is what the saddest song in the world sounds like.
It's decided, then. One by one, I shall have to burn them all.
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