This is beautiful. This is how I feel when I hear Hebrew liturgical music in synagogue, so I can relate. Love it!
(Bob Evans Farm - June 22, 2002) Strewn about the grassy hillside Under the strong June sun A muggy breeze stirs slightly Carrying the tune of the banjo The fiddle, and the mandolin We sit, or lay, and listen To the tunes of yesterday A few brave souls, mostly old timers dance a jig here and there I silently applaud, as I watch their feet stomping back and forth I see their smiles, such unabashed joy in their freedom to be who they were And who they are My heritage is so far before my time I have never been To the old barn dance Where they gathered to socialize To find a gal or beau Or sneak a drink of moonshine To the same songs floating over the hills today The poor ol’ rebel soldier haunts the air, his voice longing He must know, will his soul Pass through the south land Broken hearts and forlorn loves Chasing the wind Like a Fox on the Run It is still today, the era of convenience The computer age, the digital marvels Yet the songs of our ancestors fill our ears And our hearts, and in our minds we reach out, trying to embrace the fading past Even those of us who never knew Strive for a glimpse of what used to be The glitter we see in the old man’s eyes And his feet shuffle and stomp in time to the music Just like he used to do I am glad the songs have not died And that you have kept them alive As your fingers move over the strings And your voice cries out the words From a heart so long ago LSF 06/23/02 |
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Comments 1 to 4 of 4
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