Last night, I got there early. I turned on an amp...loud, and plugged in that maroon telecaster and played...alone. I let that A string drone and crushed the room.
I didn't need fans, just a pick, electricity, a low slung guitar, closed eyes, and God moving through me...the spirit of sound.
I etched the words you taught me on my hand with pen: You're not in the wind, You are the wind. It was me looking in the wrong places, not you hiding. Oh, how I spend so much time looking for what is there already, listening to hear hidden things in the things I hear so clearly. Instead, I should look and listen. You are there. Everywhere.
And that A drones on. God, I'm so glad I was alone because I listened to the wind for the first time in days.
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"All this machinery making modern music can still be open-hearted, not so fully-charted it's really just a question of Your honesty, yeah Your honesty!"
-Lee, Lifeson, Peart
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