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Some things are meant to go on forever
(The sky, the sun, the sandy horizon)
Some things are meant to go on forever
(Wide open sky)
A tousled rosebud lifts its sleepy head
And tilts its face to the sunlight.
A moment
One pulse of a heart
As the world thrums,
Suspended in reveries of roses.
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The light shining through the leaves of the trees on the sidewalks
Looks suspiciously like stained glass
And cold windowpanes invite the shy gleam of the sunshine
To kiss their faces with its golden cast
Illuminating the infinite possibilities for wonderment and magic to reign supreme
Not just a dream
Queen for an hour when the sky is pink
The clouds overhead are gilt with the shimmer of sunshine
Incandescent in the skies above
Below, people turn and look in the eyes of their companions
And they realize they are in love
Illuminating…
When the sky is pink and people’s silhouettes go wandering on their own
Shadows independent from their bodies
Bodies dancing without knowing quite why they do it
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When your heart ensnares my own with its fine tendrils
And as you weave a net with fibers spun from dreams and kisses
I wonder if you’ll catch me when I’m running or when I’m falling
I can feel my heart beat faster, I don’t know why
It could be love or possibly the pounding thrill of danger
I wonder if you’ll catch me when I’m running or when I’m falling
I should leave before I’m tangled up in your life
But how can I return to solitude, or is it freedom?
I wonder if you’ll catch me when I’m running or when I’m falling
As you wrap me in your arms and say that you’ll stay
I’m caught between my love, my instincts, and the lure of safety
I wonder if you’ll catch me when I’m running or when I’m falling?
I wonder if you’ll catch me when I’m running or when I’m falling?
I wonder if you’ll catch me when I’m running or when I’m falling?
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7. |
Beanstalk (feat. Helios)
03:46
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8. |
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Ponta de areia, ponto final
Da Bahia à Minas, estrada natural
Que ligava Minas ao porto, ao mar
Caminho do ferro mandaram arrancar
Velho maquinista com seu boné
Lembra o povo alegre que vinha cortejar
Maria fumaça não canta mais
Para moças, flores, janelas e quintais
Na praça vazia, um grito, um ai
Casas esquecidas, viúvas nos portais
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As day falls into dreams, jet trails are fairy tales
Enscripted across the soft, soft sky full of shooting stars
Storylines so old, they’ve become memory
So new that they are rewritten with each passing moment
Held between the ends of the earth.
Alone, and yet I am surrounded by clouds and stars and stories
The sky is so full of words.
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Emily Kuhn Chicago, Illinois
Emily Kuhn is a jazz trumpet player based in Chicago, IL, where she is the bandleader of a chamber jazz nonet, Helios, a member of various jazz and Latin projects, and an active music educator. She has a BM and BA in Jazz Trumpet Performance and Environmental Studies from Oberlin, and she studied with renowned trumpet players Eddie Henderson, Sean Jones, John D’earth, and John Henes. ... more
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