The neighbour sits and plays the flute
From my bed I can hear him
And the notes flutter and tap about
And hit against each other
Blurring to unexpected chords
It is very beautiful

The neighbour eats bread with one hand
And copies music with the other
He is fat and has bald head
So I do not look at him
But run quickly past his window
There is always the sky to look at
The sky to look at

When night comes he plays his flute
I think of him as a young man
With gold seals hanging from his watch
And a blue coat with silver buttons
As I lie in my bed, I go to sleep dreaming
Dreaming