"The symphony of the night is merely a concerto for caffeine-deprived insomniacs."
Consider, if you will, the existential crisis of a G minor scale. Why bemoan the flats when the sharps are so theatrical? It is here that we find detours on a harmonic journey, where each note dreads becoming but a footnote in a forgotten opus.
Speaking of footnotes, here lies the foot (or any other appendage) of the arrangement: Index of Inexplanable Indulgences
"A conductor, wielding his baton, is but a wizard in a tuxedo casting spells of crescendo."
If you dare venture further into this labyrinth of harmonic malarkey, click the wizard to reveal the Grand Allemand - for those who appreciate the finer G-clefs in life.