Everything Else

Natalie:
Mozart was crazy.
Flat fucking crazy.
Bad shit, I hear.

But his music's not crazy,
It's balanced, it's nimble,
It's crystalline clear.

There's harmony, logic,
You listen to these.
You don't hear his doubts,
Or his debts or disease.

You scan through the score,
And put fingers on keys,
And you play.
And everything else goes away.
Everything else goes away.

And you play 'til it's perfect,
You play 'til you ache,
You play 'til the strings or your fingernails break.

So you'll rock that recital,
And get into Yale.
So you won't feel so sick,
And you won't look so pale.

'Cause you've got your full ride,
And you're early admit.
So you're done with this school,
And with all of this shit.

And you graduate early,
You're gone as of May,
And there's nothing your paranoid parents can say.

And you know that it's just a sonata away,
And you play,
And you play.
And everything else goes away,
Everything else goes away.
Everything else goes away.