the small hours and Nimrod on the radio, and one really must wonder 
WHAT is this thing, without which Nietsche said so justly that Life 
would be a (cosmic) Error
or 'a disease of matter' as the great Amateur Musicologist John 
Beckett's father put it

Is it pure communication, freed of the superfluous burden of content ?

Heidegger crossed out the word 'God' and pencilled in 'Being' instead, 
and he felt it intelligent to think of Language as being The House of 
Being. Then Might one, Herr Doktor Professor Heidegger - Martin, wenn 
ich darf - might one say that Music is The Home of Being?

Oh what are the Words? with which to finally break the High Aswan Dam 
of all this religious fervour, pent up a whole lifetime long by 
scrupulous intelligence's ardent Moral commitment to disbelief!

The only prayer I give any credence to was penned by Elvis Costello, 
and has - so rightly - the form of a Question:

What shall we Do,
what Shall we do,
with all this
Useless
Beauty?