serendipity in super slow music.

This week held one of those lucky moments listening to a song you've known for ages but suddenly hear for the first time. The doubly lucky part is hearing the words you needed right at the moment the song decides to stop letting you ignore it.

The melody moves so slowly - borderline boringly - it never held my attention. But when my ears caught "we are blessed aren't we", I waited for the rest. Amid the throes of a seemingly endless quarter-life crisis, these words are a breath of fresh air. No answers, and who would look for those? Life finds its own answers. All we need along the way, sometimes, is for someone to say so.


Hands in black mud
At the foot of the manger
She'll always be young

And free to be wrong
A black lamb licks the dirt off her feet with its tongue

We are blessed aren't we
In the shade of these large auburn leaves
Unexpectedly
We arrive where we're all meant to be

Hands in black mud
As she sits by the manger
And closes her eyes

The wind blows outside
A black car pulls the gravel and wants her to ride

We are blessed aren't we
In the shade of these large auburn leaves
Unexpectedly
We arrive where we're all meant to be