[audio m4a="http://www.radiantdaggers.com/wp-content/uploads/02-Le-Monde-copy.m4a"][/audio] I cannot get your voice out of my chest, It's nestled there, still resonating... Somehow, in the middle of the rain Your voice was a splash of little yellow lights Floating through streets of old Bethesda, Lighting up the grey. I met you as little yellow lights In the pouring rain...
The whole world is a feather... And each one of us must safeguard that feather. E la vera storia e tutta interiore...
At that quiet hour, in the deep of the night, when all but dreams drowned in slumber, rain started to fall from the heavens all across the land. Each drop, a thousand and one trillion drops in all, hit the ground like drumbeats to a heart, a veil of lullabies spoken in liquid words. But the raindrops stopped in mid-air, suspended like crystal balls, each reflecting the other, a thousand and one trillion reflections in all. Shhh little one, shhh... It has rained for an eternity... Can you not hear it? Can you not discern the whispers of your ancestors? -IAT
[audio m4a="http://www.radiantdaggers.com/wp-content/uploads/01-The-Tudors-Main-Title-Theme.m4a"][/audio] . On that night there was a feast set forth... The Three Princesses attended in full regalia, One from winter's grove, north of England, One from the Black Forests of Germania, And one from the ancient beaches of Silk Asia Of sacrifice they spoke, And wine they drank, But for blood and gore they lusted. A little nasty, A little lisp... And so began the legacy of The Princesses of Red...