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Sunday, September 30, 2018

The Throat Singer


By Александр Лещёнок, CC BY-SA 4.0Wikimedia
In humble music in the wind i have a story i'd like to tell not of guns and glory
But a throat singer on a hill not even a spell there's a man over there
A top a mountain somewhere in asia in a place just like something and if to say grace
He blesses the place and the echo of his freedom travels across the land i can see
He looks like me in fact i play the part a mirror image to what i see so strange
It's a sound with no words just vowels not that i know i understand what he's saying
To to me you are no prisoner here you cant build walls if you come about this place
You must be be in a state of grace and the song that you sing can have no meaning
No words to sing only music to the earth and the song go on forever it not me that
You see there is no mirror up hear you are seeing yourself upon this mountain and the
Song that you sing is for the music that you bring their is no meaning to muddy the
Watter and the reason you came is for the grace that it brings a man upon a mountain
In humble music in the wind in the wind the throat singer

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