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In lines, swayed by rhythmic decree concerning the expired. Sewn ties, thread through homilies. Net worthy. Past as sire. Designing a unison tune for pleasure, we misfired. The movement is still.
Call your children out, hands held. Call. Response. When the flock is small, winning hearts is a straight and simple capture. None to boast.
We sing along - nostalgia we shared. With the beats in common place, the chorus is "us". Believe it all, the earworms ingrained. When the verses ended, a measure is all we shared.
Something fell behind, and it startled choirs who don't suffer surprise. With ears fatigued and tired, belt out gasping highs. Off beat, flat, they died. No one feels right, and they're all afraid. Blame it on a phrase. Blame it on their phrasing. Blame it on the changes resolving.
A song in movements - once you're swept up, you're in. The pounding refrain, it breaks and it falls. You recall that you've been here, alive with sound. And the notion feels right - the meaning is home. Splayed on the floor now, the tune is missed. When the verses ended, a measure is all we shared.
It's over. I'm sorry. All over. We’re behind. We’re out of time.
In time, it fades in degrees, descending. But the choir.... Remind me of why we moved so quickly. We expired. What now? It's all I've done.
supported by 5 fans who also own “Clapping on the Ones and Threes”
Your music connects on every level, whether it’s physical, emotional or spiritual. Impressive musicianship and song writing. Love how you leave this undefined space for us listeners to draw our own images and blend in our own personal lives when listening. Beacons is one of my favorite albums of all time! olaussem