Manha De Carnaval

I am practicing for the residents at the nursing center, and my right hand is exhausted, and my mouth is sore from playing my clarinet. It's funny how right when my body is falling into intense fatigue that my heart is aligned with the music, and the music sounds great. I feel like playing at the lobby of a smoky bar of a seedy motel, where lovers meet for quick trysts at obscure hours of the night. And I want an old timer to hum along with the music with tears in his eyes, and then turning to me after and saying, "Play it again, babe."