“OK, I haven't played a harp in over a year, so don't laugh if I make a mistake.”
He nodded, his eyes glued to her hand.
She began strumming, running her fingers over the strings. “This is Peruvian harp. It's lighter than a European harp, and you play it more like a guitar,” she said. The boy probably wouldn't remember what she said, but she couldn't resist passing on a bit of what she knew and loved.
Her left hand quickly remembered what it was supposed to do, plucking the strings with her fingernails. Her right hand wasn't so cooperative. She winced as the fingers refused to move as quickly or as smoothly as they should. It took a minute to work out the pattern of muscle movements that allowed her to at least move her fingers in something resembling the proper order.
She began playing a simple lullaby, anything more complicated was impossible for her now. Closing her eyes, she let the music overtake her. When she finished the song, she immediately began another one. The mistakes rang loudly in her ears, but simply holding an instrument again and making music, no matter how simple, made her smile.
Opening her eyes, she realized she had an audience. Several children were now sitting around her, listening to her play and a few of the adults were coming over as well. Backing away from the harp she tried to put her glove on, but it caught on her talons.
"Her voice started off as still as water and everyone stopped dancing or eating as of mesmerized by how something so tiny could travel through the room. She timidly sang, of places now gone, tragedies now immortal, heroes long lost. With every verse her voice grew, every step of the journey stronger than then next. Everyone had closed their eyes, not merely listening anymore but seeing, 'experiencing' the scenery. Her voice came to an abrupt halt as the final lyrics had left her now screaming voice without anyone noticing.
"See, I told you. Whenever I sing people stop looking at me", she said to the masked person standing right behind her. Most people didn't even notice them, for they were still enthralled in their own worlds. A single word lingered at the tongues of those that could free them of the world of her song. Siren.
Singers have different personalities. I'd agree with this if you are only showing the singer in a professional context with a hoity-toity audience, but if they're more of a modern Youtuber or a casual singer or they simply have a goofy personality, go ham with lyrics!Well the simplest advice would be not to write the lyrics, unless you're confident in them, don't care about their quality, or you have some other reason to put them in the story. But the point I'm making is that no matter the reason, you'll probably spend as much, if not more time writing lyrics than the story, which is not productive at all.