A tenor, in suit and tie, with a receding hairline, sings a ballad to his love, "Your face is like a song," to simple piano accompaniment. As he sings about his love's face, his own face goes through phantasmagoric changes, beginning with his warbling mouth moving about. As the singing continues, his face twists, turns, explodes, liquefies, becomes block-shaped, multiples, curls, disappears in sections and all at once, and always reconfigures itself serenely into its original shape. As the song ends, the camera pans back revealing the man sitting in a chair on the green field of mother earth. She may have a face and designs of her own.