That one stuck song, one of abstract notes with melodic undertones. The whisper of certain gravity heard when the silence played within the echoes of its day. They arose. Every day with the sense of a lullaby, walking into a new world that felt secure and alive with rhythm. As days passed, the circles of notes slowed eased its mark under their eyes. The song replayed again and again, slowly turning into a tormented music box that would not fall quiet.
Its humans strained, listening to the meaning of its whisper. The quickness of the day and the noise of the world made the effort almost impossible. The songs of others became louder and louder, until their own song got drowned within the boom. The notes became jumbled and the boom of the bass soon kept them up. The drum of their hearts became softer and the rhythm of the breath became weaker.
The songs stuck in their heads were silenced. The song of life became jumbled. There was too much too listen to and yet there was nothing at all. Confusion was the new director of its master work. Truth was its ailing assistance, slowly trying to build strength. Rearrangement of cognition and emotions were the innovators of change, slowly stepping into place. Slowly allowing new music to come along. The listeners learned, understanding the old song of confusion were truly tangled trails of clarity. With that once said, the song stuck in their heads began taking new rhythm.
The music continued.