Singing

[berranyr_mizzrym]

Everyone appears to be singing. Again. How strange. I suppose I...

Joseph's face was black as night
The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes
His path was marked
By the stars in the Southern Hemisphere
And he walked his days
Under African skies

This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain

In early memory
Mission music
Was ringing 'round my nursery door
I said take this child, Lord
From Tucson Arizona
Give her the wings to fly through harmony
And she won't bother you no more

This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain

Joseph's face was as black as the night
And the pale yellow moon shone in his eyes
His path was marked
By the stars in the Southern Hemisphere
And he walked the length of his days
Under African skies

... Ah. It's going to be the irritating sort of singing that interrupts you again. Lovely.

Comments

[faintest-memory.livejournal.com]

Oh, that's such a lovely song, Pharaun...! You sing so very well...

[berranyrmizzrym.livejournal.com]

Why, thank you, Elise.

[peachblossomfan.livejournal.com]

I hadn't heard that one before.

[berranyrmizzrym.livejournal.com]

Nor have I, actually. Then again, I hadn't heard of anything I sang the last time something like this happened.

[peachblossomfan.livejournal.com]

Well, whether you know the song or not, you've got a nice voice.

[berranyrmizzrym.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Hiiragi.

[peachblossomfan.livejournal.com]

You're welcome.