In halls where echoes softly sing,
The strings of violins gently ring,
A melody that time can’t bind,
A harmony of heart and mind.

The piano’s keys, both black and white,
Play tales of sorrow, joy, and light,
Each note a whisper in the night,
A story told with pure delight.

The orchestras, with grand display,
Bring forth the dawn of another day,
A symphony that sweeps the soul,
An art that makes the spirit whole.

In every chord, a memory,
Of ancient times and history,
Classical music, timeless, true,
Forever old, forever new.