Foreign Tongues
How does one sing aloud a clear and honest note without being transcribed as an instrument intent upon proving only itself capable of music? Likewise our words are wrung, slung, compressed, repressed, distorted.
Take hold with me the glistening brass array of waiting horns. Hollow the reed. Let us find a mellow chord, teach our sounds to blend, and blending become one. Take the pick, drumstick, mallet or tongue, call together harmonies our tongues alone simply cannot speak. I have not learned yet this song that soothes all of the world to sleep. Who can know its verses? Who can understand its tone?
Take hold with me and let us sing it. Can you teach me the song?
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