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The end of the world.
Take a piano.
The keys begin, the keys end.
You know there are 88 of them nobody can tell you any different.
They are not infinite, you are infinite.
And on those keys the music that you can make is infinite.
I like that.
That I can live by.
But you get me up on that gangway
and roll out in front of me, a keyboard of millions of keys,millions and billions of keys that never end
and that's the truth, Max,that they never end,
that keyboard is infinite.
and if that keyboard is infinite than on that keyboard there's no music you can play.
You're sitting on the wrong bench.
That's God's piano.
Christ, did you see the streets? Just the streets.There were thousands of them!
How do you it down there?How do you choose just one?
One woman, one house,
one piece of land to call your own, one landscape to look at,
one way to die.
All that world just weighing down on you. you don't even know where it comes to an ends
I mean Aren't you ever just scared of just breaking apart
at the thought of it, at the enormity of living it?
I was born on this ship.
The world passed me by, but two thousand people at a time.
And there were wishes here,
but never more than fit
between prow and stern.
You played out your happiness on a piano that was not infinite.
I learned to live that way.
Land?
Land is a ship too big for me.
It's a woman too beautiful.
It's a voyage too long. Perfume too strong.
It's music I don't know how to make.
I could never get off this ship.
At best, I can step off my life.
After all, I don't exist for anyone.
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