I'm too reserved for samba but I can see it's fun,
some of your band look happy though some look rather glum.
There's some of us can do that stuff
and some of us who can't;
however much we'd wish it, rhythmical we aren't.
If you make me stand up and exhort me to dance,
you won't like what you'll see chum
so don't give me the chance.

I spoke to you in whispers
but you shouted out my shame
My confidence is now just splinters
I can no longer speak your name

At dawn the sun broke my mask
I wore to dance to your tune
Now I'm just a broken mess
for you look down upon as your due

Can we never hear the music again
that was once our beating pulse?
Why is it you're always the one
that sings more quietly than most?

While we blind ourselves
we simply drown with the tide
Echoes of the past reflect only the failures and so shall it always be

Tomorrows promise is a kiss of remorse
just the same, we shall part
Can we leave what was only,
to pretend what never will be?

As you pull me from the depths
I simply leave you waiting
The nightmares will fade
but will the dreams ever again ring true?

So why do we dance to the same old tune?
When the music goes away
do we simply just nod to each other
knowing there's no other day?
At midnight do we excuse ourselves
to slumber separately with our demons?
Or do we simply hold onto
each other
to survive through the next season?

I taste the goodbye upon your lips
I hear our song slowly fade
Can you not simply follow me
to the shore
where new memories could be made?

In bittersweet reprise is our closing
Here do the credits role
Tonight is a moment and it bleeds the memories
Soon only to be pages from our past

Paint this moments portrait,
and stand back, not see the flaws
It is all in the illusion after all

Except for, in the grains of sand
upon which we danced
are the footsteps of our past
just washing away
Do the pages just turn on?
Because if you asked me in the beginning
I would have told you I didn't dance
But you grabbed me and started swaying
without me having a chance
to tell you I can't hear the music
I just move to a certain beat
The illusion is the only thing
that will move me to my feet

Isn't it after all, the flaws,
that will crack
and we will tumble
You may walk away singing,
while I still fumble with the illusion that we danced so pretty
under a fractured moonlight
While I tried to hold onto you
upon a tortured shore
You walked away from me
Leaving me in the dark of night

sunday morning is often quiet here early .the radio playing.



did you know they play music alongside bird  song. a special

moment.



we sit quiet and listen.  you see i think the swallows have gone.

i did not see them leaving.



in syria they drop bombs   to gas the children.



sbm.

What is Love? Part 6: Home

Why is it we love so deeply? Is it for romance? Is it to reassure our significant other that they mean so much to us or perhaps it is because we see ourselves in others.. or something more, so we conjure up this energy to try and prove to them their worth towards us. This never ending declaration of unconditional, inexplicable and yet some how, profound love. A love so powerful it bounds us together almost making us one, almost making us whole and so we fear shutting our eyes because we think that if we open them again, we'll wake up and it'll all have been just a dream.

No... No, my dearest friends.. listen to me now. When the sun breaks dawn and you feel that cool eastern breeze just brush against the nape of your neck all the way around to the front of your cheek; look upward, north, and remember. Time will stop for a moment and you'll be able to travel anywhere in almost an instant. But nothing could amount to that moment you looked into her eyes and felt... Home. Safe. Truly Happy. Remember that feeling. Remember that feeling my friends.. when you shut your eyes.. and go to sleep. Cause when you wake, I promise, she'll be waiting right there in front of you, smiling and with awe.

This is for that cold whistle and its tempestuous ring.
Come to greet me in your hardened sheen? O, You crystal empress--
blind as the night, and clear as the day can see.