If only angels could sing like this

The squirt and squeaks and the chips and everything else.
It all started on a rainy winter day, the tape was on the deck and the car was flowing smoothly. Suddenly it begun, the idea that the car was flying as I was looking outside just couldn't leave my mind. It made me travel, think of dark loomy islands with stormy seas, the comfort of a nice fire place. and yesterday there it was again, the same thoughts, this time personified by a small girl behind a huge harp, and still I couldn't believe that voice was coming from her, only from the giant shadow projected on the wall, whose twisted fingers went trough the chords of the harp.