waving flag.

PHOTO:  PABRIS AND ARMELLE.
It's a ridiculous hour right now.  But I got thoughts, maybe too many.  Stop and go click my playlist--tell it to run because the song ties into these thoughts.

I left my phone in a town like 30 miles away from Lincoln (can you believe I'm still in Lincoln!).  Dylan, Sante, Kelly and I went to a farm this evening and then some super small-town diner where we ate slabs of chicken with freckles of corn mixed into the gravy.  I don't know how my phone got left there--it doesn't matter, really.  These days, I just do what I need to do to get it back.   Tonight it meant a midnight drive.

Dylan said he'd come with me, which I appreciated a ton.   We got in and flew at 65 towards Syracuse.  As K'naan played loud, sound packed up against the inside of the windows.  The moon was low--like highway level, and it packed light against the outside of the windows.  Packed and stacked sound and light--with glass in between.

I listened to these lyrics and moving through them, they meant more when I let myself sing them with the hope of Pabris' and Armelle's future in mind.  I almost slip into their little bodies for a second and sing it for them.

When I get older, I will be stronger
They'll call me freedom just like a wavin' flag
And then it goes back, and then it goes back
And then it goes back, oh

Born to a throne, stronger than Rome
A violent prone, poor people zone
But it's my home, all I have known
Where I got grown, streets we would roam

Out of the darkness, I came the farthest
Among the hardest survival
Learn from these streets, it can be bleak
Accept no defeat, surrender, retreat

So we struggling, fighting to eat
And we wondering when we'll be free
So we patiently wait for that fateful day
It's not far away, but for now we say