An old woman; a widow, is (in beginning of the chantey) sitting, weeping softly by her husband's grave. She is reading the letter he wrote to her of how his dying wish was to conduct the orchestra that he was in his whole life, to his favorite aria. The woman obtains an idea, travels across the short street, into a music shop. As she gazes around (the music slowing down and sounding slightly inquisitive), and notices a long, ocean blue coloured box. (camera showing varies of angles with sun seeping through the windows onto her orange and white hair, with the notion it is the season of fall). She purchases the box, and stands outside the store. She looks to her left at a doc, next to the graveyard. She starts to shed more tears, but shows less sadness than before. She ambles toward the edge of the doc, next to a bench. The widow opens the box to reveal a baton. She sets down the box and hold the wand gingerly in her hands. ( As the music increases in volume and more melodious and dramatic...)
Then she gracefully, and slowly starts to conduct by her lonesome, on the verge of the doc. (As the music grows melodramatically) She shuts her eyes and continues the same pattern in the crisp air. ( The song suddenly reaches the pinnacle, a crash symbol sounds, echoing, as her surroundings fade and transform, becoming darker and thicker. She is standing on a podium, in front of the widow, is her husband's entire orchestra, inside a musical theater dome, but in the open air on a vast field with no other souls than hers and the bands. It is the setting of night, and the stars shine ever bright. They are playing the very song that has carried throughout the past moments.) She feels the overwhelming sense of euphoria, and pure blissfulness. A prodigious, flaxen glow cascades from the stage, illuminating all around her. (The ballads musicality refines into kind, slow sounds, the band is hushed) The widow, turns steadily around, her eyes meet with the ones of whom she love most in the world, her vision blurs up from the tears. Her lover is standing there, in the form of a rhapsodic, golden, and spectral figure, with a gaze just as real as hers, full of love. (The melody returns to the band gradually) She runs to him, arms open wide, and embraces him. The deceased husband helps her understand how contented and gratified he is because of what she completed for him. She fulfilled him and his fantasy. He delicately caresses her head, and his figure grows faint, as if the soft wind were sweeping him away into oblivion. She stands alone, her hand outstretched. (As the harmonies dim, now sounding open-ended, the band maintains its playing as the camera beams out until it settles on the deep welkin, ending it, with the word "fin" just below, the ominous moon.)