cwBlog

So we went to the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival this weekend, and I have a lot of stuff to write about it. But not yet.

For now, lyrics:

We fought all night and then we danced
In your kitchen
You were as much in my hands
As water or darkness or nothing
Can ever be held

Mustang horses, champagne glasses
Anything frail anything wild
It's the price of living motion
What's beautiful is broken
And grace is just the measure of a fall

(Jeffrey Foucault, "Northbound 35")

Sister Maria tightened the bolts of the spare
She said a quick prayer and put the old van into gear
Thank God that the traffic was light
If she hurried she might not be late
For that evening's performance at the state penetentiary

She entered the common room and their was her choir
Altos and baritones, basses and tenors
Car thieves and crack dealers, mobsters and murderers
Husbands and sons, fathers and brothers
And so it began in glorious harmony
Softly and Tenderly - calling for you and me
With the interstate whining way off in the distance
And the sun going down through the bars of the prison
They poured out their souls, they poured out their memories
They poured out their hopes for what's left of eternity
To sister Maria - her soul like a prism
For the light of forgiveness on all of their faces

(Richard Shindell, "Transit")