May 7
I want to write a song for you but you are the strummer,
the player,
the gentle wrist flicking up and down,
the echo in the cavity,
the vibration of the strings
and the voice that sings.
the player,
the gentle wrist flicking up and down,
the echo in the cavity,
the vibration of the strings
and the voice that sings.
I believe in the sacrament of art and work
because the guitar grew with you, gave you sunlight
because the guitar grew with you, gave you sunlight
(F/Voie Des Papillons)
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