you are what would people call a ghost...a forgotten person? Maybe...you don't know yourself anymore, you barely remember your name, but what you do remember is the feeling of being appreciated by people who loved your creepy yet oddly calming music...the only that that keeps you at this place. The piano that was once yours, a grand piano, big and magnificent, just a beauty itself. Black mixed with hints of gold and silver, not to much yet not to less. Just perfect...you just want to keep your music alive, is that to much to ask? All these teenagers comming in here, thinking their the first to find this, when you have always been here, and never once left...this is, your home, and you love I dearly...