Hanging on one wall of the cavern is a trumpet, next to a guitar. An old, dusty upright piano sits at an angle in one of the corners.
You turn around and notice a »silly photo on the wall.
One of the pages falls from the wall onto the ceiling. You pick it up. A poem is written on the page, entitled Let_All_Things_Now_Living.
The musician doesn't seem to be in right now, so you aren't sure what to make of it all.
