A Fickle Thing

Music is a fickle thing
You can never hold it
All you can do is listen
It never stays
It always leaves
You hear it when you want and when you don’t
Like I said it is a fickle thing
If you could hold music
Would it flow away in the wind
Would it melt like ice cream on a hot day
Or dry up like a lake
Well you may never know
But you can always dream