My love is like the shape your mouth makes while you whistle. Would you mind if I accompanied you on my harmonica?

I play my harmonica when I’m in love, because the harmonica is the instrument of loneliness.

The harmonica has musical wind, and is the breath of soul. It’s like a sad, lonely I love you lost in the breeze.

Sir, I cannot sing. I have no formal training. I do not read music. And I know this is a church – but I play a mean harmonica.