Where has the music gone...?

The little man sat in the corner by the window in an old, worn, wooden chair. 

A blanket on his lap, and his pipe smoking in his hand.

He sat, and he smoked, and he listened to music.

Day after day, until it soon became years,

he would sit and tap his foot in rhythm to the music

that played such sad, sad sounds.

His pipe would smoke,

and sometime his head would nod up and down

without him even knowing he was doing it.

And then one day everything suddenly changed.

The blanket slipped off his lap, his pipe sat empty and cold.

Worst of all was the music.

The music had stopped, and the poor old man

could not seem to recall how to turn it back on again.