He sang that song again, quietly in my ear
Another low voice picked up and sang once more
With all the tenors and basses I felt no fear
If I closed my eyes, on their love I could soar
I was not in the choir to be one of the geeks
It was to listen to admire to adore to love
This confession will be the death of me, if it does leak
But I do not care, I soar on the music like a dove
The symphony of young voices blended together so well
From the lowest to the highest, from the throat to the diaphragm
Big brassy voices coming from the sea, echoing like a conch shell
To the smallest meekest voices, like the bleat of a newborn lamb
All dance within my head, wanting to break loose but I shan't let them go
The body may not be innocent but the voices are crystal clear
The curtain is being lifted, I take my seat, here comes the show
Here comes the uniformed choir the conductor brings up the rear
Not wanting to play favorites I close my eyes so I can hear
Back row begins by slowly drawing the audience in
Now here comes the sopranos so high in the trill
The tenors and the altos end the song with the echo of a fin
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