Ah, my pretties. Play wonderous music for me while I work. For whilst I may strike my victims dumb with terror, and turn them into little more than silent puppets dancing to my tune, I need my music to keep my own sanity.
So play on, my pretties, play on.
Play well, and you may go free to pursue your own desires and dance to your own tunes.
Play poorly and join my victims in their fleeting lives.