during the never ending search for the right combination of words,
there is always something more that we are looking for,
and the radio silently plays some obscure French impressionist
knowing that some day,
all of my dreams will finally come true,
and the world will be a better place for me having written about it,
and the radio silently plays an English composer from the Middle Ages.
it is all the same to me you see,
that there are just some things that are out of our control,
and the radio will still play what it is meant to play.