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A blast of sound, resolving into a melancholy mix of flute, guitars, and beats. Just hold my hand, and let's go. | MP3.com CD: empty bowl - buy it!
CD: empty bowl
Credits: Zak Kramer: Native American flute, guitar & samples |
Story Behind the Song
Of all the images I saw, of all the stories I have heard, what haunts me the most is those who lept from the burning towers, holding hands as they fell.
For weeks and weeks I could not get it out of my head. I wondered; did they know each other? Had they just met? But something about the bond of basic humanity that not even the most horrific event in modern American history could break I found to be not merely tragic, but beautiful. Hate cannot trump love.
It also forcibly reminded me of my favorite Zen koan. A monk is walking along, when a tiger springs out of the jungle and chases him all the way to the edge of a cliff. Looking out and down, the monk sees that there are more tigers circling amid the sharp rocks below. With no alternative, he leaps into the void. As he falls, he sees a branch growing from the side of the cliff. Although it is too weak to save him, a plump, ripe strawberry has sprouted from it. The monk grabs the berry as he falls, and pops it in his mouth. It is the sweetest thing he has ever tasted.
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