photo credits: still shot from 'Night of The Proms' video clip -LINK
Some people come into the world, Love incarnate. You can feel it, hear it, see it, sense it - with all your senses as it gurgles, trickles, or gushes out of them (and whom they are with). They can't help it, it's just the way they are.
Those that fall into this category, that I'm lucky to have had shared my life with, and others - even when (perhaps even especially when) impatient, or in a bad mood for any reason, just take your heart because it's theirs to take.
There is so much soul in them, it oozes out of every pore and it seeps into you with no barrier; glues you to life even after they've gone.
Things just got to get better Show me what the leader's say Maybe we should write a letter
Said dear Mr. Man, we don't understand Why poor people keep struggling But you don't lend a helping hand Matthew 5:5 say, "The meek shall inherit the Earth" We gonna be down that way But you been trippin' since a day of your birth
Who said that to kill is a sin Then started every single war that your people been in? Who said that water is a precious commodity Then dropped a big, old, black oil slick in the deep blue sea?
Who told me, Mr. Man, that working round the clock Would buy me a big house in the hood, cigarette ads on every block? Who told me, Mr. Man, that I got a right to moan? How about this big old hole in the ozone?
What's wrong with the world today? Things just got to get better Dear Mr. Man, we don't understand Maybe we should write a letter, yeah, so look
Listen, ain't no sense in voting, same song with a different name
Might not be in the back of the bus but it sure feel just the same
Ain't nothing fair about welfare, ain't no assistance in aids We ain't that affirmative about your actions till the people get paid
Your thousand years are up, now you gotta share the land Section 1, the 14th Amendment says "No state shall deprive any person of life Liberty or property, without due process of law" Mr. Man, we want to end this letter with three words We tired a-y'all
Tired, tired Said we're tired, we're tired Dear Mr. Man Hey, what's wrong, wrong with the present day? Man, just gotta get better Dear Mr. Man
One of the nation's more emblematic musical genres, more specifically "Fado", has suffered a tremendous blow and is in mourning.
As it is surely hard for dear ones and friends, one nevertheless can't help but celebrate a long, fruitful life wonderfully dedicated to an Art Form performed so well.
