(upbeat music)
- Hi, everybody.
I'm Sting, and I wanna welcome all of you,
from around the world.
I'm very proud to be here,
to help close out Narrative
4's Summer of Impact.
This event has a very
special meaning to me,
not only because it's named after one
of my songs, Synchronicity,
but because like Narrative 4,
it's all about art, empathy, and action.
I've always believed there's
a clear link between community
and art, between community and economics,
between community and storytelling.
At the end of the day,
we're all in the same boat,
and that boat is held together by stories.
I helped launch Narrative 4,
seven years ago in Chicago.
It was hard to know where it would go,
how fast it would grow and
how much it would be needed.
But I believe then as I do
now in the power of stories
to shape and change the world.
Over the years, I've
watched Narrative 4 grow.
I've seen the students who've led it.
I have talked with the
educators who are shaping it,
and I've shared stories with the artists
who are helping to drive the change.
Today, we're still about
ongoing sense of change,
and it's needed more than
ever at this pivotal time.
They are anxious times, hopeful times,
times of great upheaval.
And as Charles Dickens would have said,
"It's the best of times
and the worst of times,
but at the core of it all lies our ability
to make things better."
This is dedicated to all of you
and your collective world spirit,
and we may not be together,
but the message is just as valid
and even more urgent while we're apart.
♪ Just a castaway, an
island lost at sea, oh ♪
♪ Another lonely day with
no one here but me, oh ♪
♪ More loneliness than
any man could bear ♪
♪ Rescue me before I
fall into despair, oh ♪
♪ I'll send an SOS to the world ♪
♪ I'll send an SOS to the world ♪
♪ I hope that someone gets my ♪
♪ I hope that someone gets my ♪
♪ I hope that someone gets my ♪
♪ Message in a bottle, yeah ♪
♪ A message in a bottle, yeah ♪
♪ Walked out this morning,
don't believe what I saw ♪
♪ A hundred billion bottles
washed up on the shore ♪
♪ Seems I'm not alone at being alone ♪
♪ A hundred billion castaways
looking for a home ♪
♪ I'll send an SOS to the world ♪
♪ I'll send an SOS to the world ♪
♪ I hope that someone gets my ♪
♪ I hope that someone gets my ♪
♪ I hope that someone gets my ♪
♪ Message in a bottle ♪
♪ A message in a bottle, yeah ♪
♪ A message in a bottle ♪
♪ A message in a bottle ♪
♪ I'm sending out an SOS ♪
♪ I'm sending out an SOS ♪
♪ I'm sending out an SOS ♪
♪ I'm sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
♪ I'm sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
♪ Sending out an SOS ♪
Thanks for being here.
And I hope you'll share
the Narrative 4 message
and support our work all over the world.
And now, I'm passing this
message in a bottle to a place
that I have some kinship with.
I come from English, coal mining country,
and I'm reaching out to 18
year old Narrative 4 student,
Katie Stumbo from Floyd County High School
in Eastern Kentucky,
where they also know a thing
or two about coal mining.
- Thank you so much, Sting,
for that message of hope
that you share with us all
through your song.
As you mentioned,
I'm from Eastern Kentucky.
And growing up in
Appalachian Belt has meant
that I've had to endure stereotypes.
But through the power of Narrative 4,
I've been able to share the stories
of Appalachia all across the globe.
A few years ago,
I partnered with Narrative 4
to create a group of
youth ambassadors known
as the Narrative 4 Globetrotters.
The youth ambassadors come
from all across the globe,
and we gather once a month to talk about
how we wanna see community
change in our world,
which has already been
started, thanks to Narrative 4.
Additionally, my school in
Floyd County, Kentucky partnered
with the school inside
the South Bronx called
University Height High School.
We have been in a two
year long field exchange
and I'm super excited
to introduce my friend, Jonathan Jorge,
as the next speaker.
- Thank you so much, Katie.
And hello to everyone
from the South Bronx.
In my community,
we are filled with so much
talent, culture diversity,
but just like Katie,
we often face these misguided stereotypes.
Ever since I began with Narrative 4,
my world has only extended so much,
especially because of the
field exchange program.
That's been a part of mine
and Katie school for so long.
At the beginning, I'm
gonna be very honest,
I didn't know what to expect.
None of us really did,
but Narrative 4 show to us
that we had to open our minds,
not change them.
We felt deep into these other stories,
and this is when we've realize
that even though we feel like
we're from two different
worlds, we're not so different.
And this is where we
started to feel like family.
Our experience involves connecting
with students from Tampico,
Mexico to explore their culture,
their stories, their experiences.
And now, I'm gonna pass this on
to my great friend, Karla Monroy.
- Thanks Jonathan.
(speaks in foreign language)
I have been part of Narrative 4 since 2014
and that same year I
attended my first summit.
What can I say of Narrative 4 summits?
They are not just a great way
to meet people from all around the world,
it's also a great way
to empower those people,
to return to their countries,
communities, schools,
and put empathy into action.
In my case, I returned to my hometown
and started searching just
with my former high school,
where now they have eight or defer program
that runs from K-12.
As a college student,
I continue my work with Narrative 4
with a group in my college
where we facilitate a
couple of stories changes.
Putting empathy into is not an easy task,
but I believe that reaching out
to at least one person
makes the difference.
To hear more about empathy into action,
I'm going to introduce (indistinct)
who is doing amazing work in South Africa.
- Thanks, Karla.
Hi everyone.
My name is Yamkela, and
I am from South Africa.
I live in a small
neighborhood called Joe Slovo,
and this neighborhood has
made me such a better person
because it has helped me through so much
and it has installed wisdom onto me,
and it has made me the person I am today.
And so we have partnered with Narrative 4,
and decided to help the
people in Joe Slovo,
because a lot of people
here are unemployed
and a lot of people are
living under poverty.
And so that results to bad
things happening in Joe Slove,
so we decided to help out.
We started an empathy into action project,
that is called Trash to Treasure.
And it's going to be helping
everyone that's suffering
and everyone that doesn't
have food in Joe Slovo.
In 2017, I started,
I joined Narrative 4 and it has
made me such a better person
because I have made so many
friends who are so kind
and we've become a family, one big family.
And so I'm happy to be
sending this message
to my good friend, my big
sis from Nazareth, Israel,
Malak Lahham, thank you.
- Thank you so much (indistinct)
I too learned a lot from
you in those past few years.
Hi, my name is Malak,
and I've been a student
ambassador for Narrative 4
for the last three years.
In my favorite memory, is
conducting a story exchange
for kindergarteners with the Nazareth club
at my previous school.
We were astonished on the
feedback from both the kids
and their parents.
It was important to me
because I saw before my eyes,
that empathy was indeed
a universal language
that could be learned, understood,
and spoken by all ages,
if we give it the platform.
As Narrative 4 continues to grow,
my hope is that whoever encounters it,
gives themselves the chance
to learn this necessary lesson of empathy,
through story exchange
so that they too can change
the way they see the world
and act upon this shift of perspective.
Recently, I had the opportunity
to moderate a session about the
universality of storytelling
with my new friend, Sinead
O'Reilly from Wexford, Ireland
onto you Sinead.
- Thank you, Malak.
When lockdown started
and my world was shrunk
to the size of my head.
I had no idea it was about
to open up again with possibilities,
when I became involved in Narrative 4.
This happened when I read a book
which blew my heart wide open,
the novel of Apeirogon written
by Narrative 4 co-founder, Colum McCann.
The story touched me so much,
I felt I had to write to him.
I did, and to my amazement, he wrote back.
One thing followed another,
and I was invited into the
worldwide Narrative 4 family.
Learning how to share stories
and connect albeit virtually,
has changed my mind first
and filled me with
excitement for the future.
In the past few months,
I've been welcomed as a young leader,
trained as a facilitator
and have taken part in
Narrative 4's Summer of Impact
as a moderator alongside Malak.
I've met incredible
people over the short time
and I can't wait to meet Malak
and all of our fellow
Narrative 4 student leaders.
It's crazy to think it
was only a few months ago
that we launched the Summer
of Impact with Apeirogon.
It's my great honor to
be able to once again,
introduce two men who
have colored the world
with their creativity and compassion.
Dublin's native son,
Narrative 4 co-founder
and world renowned author, Colum McCann,
and Colm Mac Con Iomaire,
who lives just up the road from
me here in County Wrexford.
He is one of Ireland's
best loved musician,
a wonderful storyteller,
and also a Narrative 4 global ambassador.
We look forward to listening
to his music shortly,
but first I'll hand over to Colum McCann.
- Greetings from New York.
Thank you, Sinead,
that was incredible.
You and all of these wonderful students,
from around the world are
the reason I have every hope
that Narrative 4 is gonna
help change the world.
And as Sting said,
"This is all part of a
vast collective effort."
All of us are becoming part of the shape
with accountably infinite number of sides.
And we live in a world, as you guys know,
with an infinite number of stories.
Narrative 4 was founded on the idea
that the essential democracy
is that of storytelling.
We all have a story,
and we all have a deep need
to listen to others too.
And we all know that
storytelling like music itself,
is universal to the core.
What we're interested in is
turning that empathy into action
on the ground, in the Nablus,
in Tel Aviv, in Kentucky,
in the Bronx, in South Africa
and everywhere else along the way.
I wrote my novel, Apeirogon,
which has a lot to do with
the idea of synchronicity
and bringing us all together
to the sound of Colm
Mac Con Iomaire's music.
I can think of no other sound in the world
that I'd rather set my words to.
And here is a small part of
that novel inspired by Colm
and inspired really by you guys too.
Thank you so much.
91, it often surprised Rami
that he could reach so far inside
that he could discover new
ways of saying the same thing.
He was, he knew, making
Smadar continually present.
It slid something sharp and
burning into his rib cage,
pried them open even further.
Once or twice, at the lectures,
he looked across to see the
surprise on Bassam's face
as if the new phrase had
just cut him open too.
92, the force of the blast
on Ben Yehuda Street,
knocked her high into the air.
93, there are times I think,
she might've been hitching
a lift towards heaven.
94, I can still hear
the slide of the rollers
on that cold metal tray.
95, physics stole her soar.
96, Bassam kept deep different
pieces of float in his mind,
tried them out for size,
rearranged them, jumped around,
juggled them, shattered their linearity.
He liked to put groups at ease.
I spent seven years in prison,
and then I got married.
You wanna know about occupation?
Try six kids in two bedrooms,
the groups weren't sure how
to take the quips at first.
They fidgeted, glanced away,
but there was something magnetic about him
and slowly he drew them back again.
I'm the only man who ever went to England
and liked the weather.
His accent was thick.
He rolled the words around in his mouth,
but he spoke softly too and musically.
He could quote poetry,
Rumi, Darwish, Yeats.
It didn't matter if he fractured
the story here and there.
It was more like a song than story to him.
He wanted to get to the rhythm of it.
97, a bony structure at
the bottom of the trachea,
the syrinx, is integral
to the voice box of birds.
The pitch of the song is created,
when the bird shifts the
tension on the membrane.
the volume is controlled
by the force of exhalation.
The bird can control two sides
of the trachea independently
so that some species can produce
two distinct notes at once.
102, they were so close
that after a while,
Rami felt that they could
finish each other's stories.
My name is Bassam Aramin.
My name is Rami Elhanan.
I am the father of Abir.
I am the father of Smadar.
I am a seventh-generation Jerusalemite.
I was born in a cave near Hebron.
Word for word, pause for
pause, breath for breath.
(orchestral music)
- That was a piece called
The Minbar of Saladin.
And it was inspired by reading
Colum's novel "APeirogon."
I was reading this while we
were on this extraordinary trip
that we took last November
to Israel and Palestine
with Narrative 4.
And so music goes to words,
comes back to music,
and so do circles go.
And so music,
is a potent medicine
that's capable of stopping
clocks and of opening hearts.
It may indeed be the only
known cure for gravity.
It can carry stories deep
into a listener's heart.
We are all a collection of stories.
We are extremely careful with them.
What a powerful thing then to
choose to share our stories
with a stranger and to open
ourselves to their stories!
And suddenly there are no strangers.
And I think this is the
magic of Narrative 4.
Over to you Colum.
- Thank you, Colm, that was amazing.
And yes, we are all
braided in this together
in the most extraordinary way,
musicians, writers, teachers,
students, activists.
It's wonderful because storytelling
is the heartbeat of who
and what and where we happen to be.
And next up, we have three
incredible storytellers.
First Lila Azam Zanganeh
from Iran, from France,
from New York, from everywhere really,
followed by Assaf Gavron
from Tel Aviv in Israel
and Ruth Gilligan,
who was in Birmingham by way of Dublin,
all of us, citizens of
elsewhere and everywhere.
Thank you so much.
- Thank you Colum, both Colums in fact.
I sort of float in my life
between New York and Paris
and my memories, imaginary
memories of my childhood in Iran.
But funnily enough,
I find home, real home here
in stories and storytelling,
and that's why Narrative
4 has meant so much to me
for the past eight years.
With a world fated to bring us together,
I think so, but I think the
real glue of it comes when
we tell stories,
even better when we tell
one another stories.
Here's a short piece for
my book "The Enchanter,"
about the demand Nabokov and
Happiness and synchronicity.
Seeing, ceaselessly seeing,
gleaning consciousness.
Then attempting, at every turn,
to record and recombine its elements.
At core, the gift of the
Nabokovian novel is this,
just this, a call to whom-it-may-concern
to capture photon after
photon of fleeting life.
And in all these years,
I have derived such glee
from madly recombining
that as VN once told Edward
Wilson of spreading trees
with drum for nights of mothing.
I'm tempted to say, "Try
Bunny, it is the noblest sport
in the world."
It's as much a matter of
remembering and connecting
as it is of inventing at times.
Thus from composites, I recomposed.
From elements of VN's true story,
I imagined other stories, new beginnings.
And when some form of meaning
likely half-invented emerged,
that was glee a sense
of harmony of oneness
with sun and stone.
I will not bore you with
the detail of my obsessions.
Suffice it to say that now and again,
as Humbert salutes his
dream blue automobile
at the end of Lolita.
Hi Melmoth, thanks a lot, old fellow.
I secretly saluted VN.
That butterflies, inevitably,
invaded my field of vision,
orange, brown, blue insects,
shimmering in the margins of
the most indiscriminate stuff,
that the number 23,
April 23, VN and
Shakespeare's joint birthdays,
turned up everywhere,
bills, date, hours, minutes,
flight numbers, 2304 Paris to Geneva,
flunky with blue butterfly
sticker awaiting on arrival,
digits proffered casually
by life's splashing dial.
That the inventor tree I could not find
for my chapter 11, I
came across opening Ada
at random the very night
I finished the chapter,
sealyham cedar is the culprit, I believe.
That after I considered naming
the last section of this book
on 1000 shades of light.
I stepped outside at a
glance at a shop window,
and noticed a ragged book
titled "One Thousand Lights."
That when I read about
VN's Fra Angelica print,
mentioned in chapter eight,
I realized I had three different versions
of that same angel kneeling
over my own desk in New York.
That just as I switched
on my American television
for the first time in months,
the second word I heard was Nabokov,
and this was cable news.
That the day or two,
after reading about a
six-inch-long Caterpillar,
with fox-furred segments,
which I instantly associated
with the green and
copper shades of Lucette.
I detected a hideous little worm,
rusty-furred with spikes green floss,
slothfully tramping along the inner edge
of my bathtub.
Slowly, ridiculously, I imagined,
yes imagined, nothing but that,
my life stippled with
one of those repetitions,
one of those thematic voices with which,
according to all the rules of harmony,
destiny enriches the
life of observant men.
- Okay, so thanks Lila.
And that was great.
I am Assaf Gavron.
I'm from Israel,
I've been with the Narrative 4,
from the beginning 2010/2011.
And I always waited patiently until
we can bring it over to my
region, Israel, Palestine,
together with my Palestinian
partner in (indistinct)
and finally we did it.
We had an amazing exchanges
between schools here
in between Arab, Israelis and Jewish,
Israelis and Palestinians,
and hopefully many more.
So I'm gonna read now from
my book, "The Hilltop."
The bulldozers begun crawling slowly,
toward Musa Ibraham's olive trees.
Another wave of fury reverberated
through the crowd of protesters.
Do do the chubby operator
with a wandering eye positions D9 blade,
slightly above the ground
in line with a truck of
a tree and move forward.
"No," came the Christ from all around.
The eight soldiers
and two officers attempted to (indistinct)
but three managed to break
through the human barricade
and run towards the bulldozer,
wildly flailing their
arms and calling out,
"No and stop and fool,"
the soldiers gave chase,
but the three outpace
them, two men and a woman.
She in a long skirt and
an orange headscarf,
one man in baggy pants and a kafiah
and the third in a Lacoste
shirt and elegant trousers,
the television cameramen
dotted among the olive trees
and overheaps of rocks and dirt.
Out of the women, shrieked
Jewish youth skirts,
and pray to the father who art in heaven.
And settlers frowned
and squinted their eyes
and asked who the hell the
D9N bulldozer is equipped
with a heavy cast steel front blade.
It weighs more than seven tons,
stands two meters tall
and measures almost five meters across,
extending from the edge of the
blade are sharp steel teeth
and over them and into
the curve blade itself.
One after the other,
clients later (indistinct) on Musa Ibrahim
and Rollie Cooper,
moments later found
themselves listed Skyward
by (indistinct) the heavy
duty machinery soldier
who was oblivious of the
contents of his new load.
Okay, that's it.
Then over to Ruth Gilligan,
my good friend from Ireland, Britain.
Go ahead, Ruth.
- Thank you so much Assaf,
that was just lovely to hear you read.
Yeah, it's so nice to be here.
I first heard about
Narrative 4 back in 2014
and I just thought the work
they did send it's incredible,
but there's such a huge
difference between,
hearing about a story exchange
and actually seeing one in
action or being part of one.
And I remember so vividly
the first story exchange
that I witnessed.
It was in 2014 in Belfast
between a girls Protestant school
and the girls Catholic school.
And just to see the impact
that that day had on those
young women was just incredible.
And I knew kind of from that point onwards
that I really wanted to be
part of this organization.
So since then, I trained as a facilitator,
I trained as a master practitioner
and wife and organizing story
exchanges around the UK.
And I've brought
teenagers from the UK over
to Ireland to connect with
them via story exchange.
So yeah, it's been a wonderful six years
and I'm just excited for what comes next,
because I just believe
in this work so, so much.
So now partly in a sauce honor,
I'm gonna read little bit of my novel,
"Nine Folds Make A Paper Swan,"
which is all about Irish Jewish community.
And when I was researching for this novel,
I spoke to many, many members
of the Irish Jewish community.
And I asked them, you know, by how they,
or indeed their ancestors
at first find themselves in Ireland.
And they all told me this wonderful story,
about a moment of kind of
beautiful synchronicity,
which is one of boats set
sail from Eastern Europe,
but owned for America,
but ended up somewhere
slightly different instead.
So that is where my novel begins.
In time, so many stories will
be spooled out of that moment,
it'll become impossible to count.
Some said that when the boats found land,
there had been cries of "Cork Cork!,"
but that in their exhaustion,
they had heard "New York, New York!"
Instead, didn't notice
the difference for weeks.
Others claims they had
somehow know the English word
for pork and thought that
that was what the sailors
were heckling, "Pork, pork!"
A barrage of un-kosher threats
to run them off the ship.
Other times, it was just that
the captain had told them
that this was the last stock,
only up the road from America,
only a short, final
shimmy in the wilderness.
Sure, they would be there in time for tea.
But for Ruth on her family,
there was only one story,
one version of the heartache.
So now that my characters,
have been safety delivered to Ireland,
I'm going to pass you
in that direction too
and hand you over
to one of Ireland's
gracious living musicians,
the one and only Colm Mac Con Iomaire.
- Thank you, Ruth.
I'm gonna play you a piece
called the Finish Line.
It was written while on tour.
I was in Helsinki at the
time and very homesick,
and it's called the Finish Line.
(orchestral music)
Thank you.
- Thank you Colm for that beautiful piece.
I have always enjoyed listening
to your music in person,
something that's a haunting rarity today.
Your music is such a connector
and means so much to our students.
In fact, it's bombed for the soul
and your music really unites the world,
especially now, when the
world seems so polarized
and people can feel so isolated,
as many of our students do,
which is why we need Narrative 4.
Narrative 4 is empathy
into action program,
has transformed the lives of our students.
And it has transformed
the culture of our school.
Schools that are empathy schools,
which is where Narrative
4 helps to you to build
into the culture of your school.
Our school's where students
not only achieve academically,
but also are able to build
empathy and leadership skills.
There are less suspensions
and students graduate at high rates
and they learn not only listen
and to value each other,
they also learn the power of their voice
and the power of their story,
and connect to the
stories of so many others.
We have enjoyed wonderful
partnerships in Kentucky
with Floyd Central and in Tampico.
Please, allow me
to introduce my wonderful
friend to you, Maru Castenada.
- Thank you Hazel,
for all that you do to light up the world.
I have been involved with
Narrative 4 since 2015.
I am a Spanish teacher
at the American School
of Tampico in Mexico.
Three years ago,
I introduced the K-12
Narrative 4 program at school,
in which we have fermented
the ability of empathy
in the little kids, all the way
to our high school students.
This is done through different activities,
ending with the story exchange.
It is amazing seeing how their
behaviors and interaction
with others change as
we unfold our program.
At the same time,
we have a group of student ambassadors
that help run the activities.
By having this program,
we are building young leaders
with a larger sense of
empathy, just like Karla,
my former student, that spoke
awhile ago about Tampico.
Not only is it important
to have K-12 program,
but also to give it continually
in college or university.
That is something my friend, Dawn Duncan,
can tell us more about.
- Thanks Maru.
As an educator, writer and performer,
I live by the mantra, "Words
have the power to harm
or to heal, they are never neutral."
I am called to use healing words.
In 2015, I started researching
it with my students,
how Narrative 4 uses deep
listening and personal narratives
to enhance and even shift perspective.
Then we were invited to participate
in the 2016 summit in Ireland.
We returned to campus
and kicked off a college
and community program
that stretches across
Minnesota and the Dakotas.
Since 2016, we have hosted
exchanges on immigration,
interfaith, identity and difference,
land and our relationship
to it, and many more.
Over 100 students, faculty,
staff, and community leaders,
are trained to facilitate these exchanges.
And Narrative 4 is knitted
into the fabric of education
at our college.
It's found an administrative home
in the office of diversity
and is used in classrooms
and the arts and humanities,
sciences, and pre-professional programs.
That commitment is our recognition
that the future leaders
we learn alongside,
must develop social
emotional intelligence,
must put empathy into action
if we hope to solve the pressing problems
of our world together.
If not for COVID-19,
we would be hosting this year
summit at Concordia College
in Fargo Morehead,
but we look forward to
hosting a summit next year.
I now live at the border
of the USA and Mexico
where I will continue this work.
Even as I help to train other
colleges and community leaders
in using Narrative 4.
Each time we use the
Narrative 4 methodology,
we learn and grow,
and all of us have learned
so much from Lillian de Jesus
at University Heights.
Hi Lillian.
- Thank you so much, Dawn.
I missed you, (speaks in foreign language)
to the boogie down Bronx
birthplace of hip hop,
home to Edgar Allan Poe.
Seven years ago,
Lisa and Colum learns,
about a program between
two very different schools,
Fieldstone, a private independent school
and University Heights,
a public high school.
We met at Fieldstone and their
intention and my interest
in creating pathways toward peace
and understanding we're mutual.
The stories changed is the
bedrock of Narrative 4,
and unlike a story line in a novel,
the story exchange is unpredictable.
And so foster trust, to
protect, to create safe,
embrace based this,
to capture and cradle those
emotions that come to us,
we have interwoven social
and emotional structures
in the curriculum.
And that is an ongoing process.
Five years ago, University
Heights embarked
on a field exchange pilot program
with Floyd Central High
School and Eastern Kentucky.
The students call each other,
"My brother, my sister."
And how did that happen?
We made space for each other
to listen to their stories
with reverence and respect on
how we live and how we die.
We came together to identify a need
in each other's community
and launched empathy
into action programs.
And most dear is what happens
outside of the classroom.
When the work is done,
our students continue to be
in touch with each other.
And here's my sister, Mary Margaret Slone.
We have done so much, Mary.
I love you so much.
And I look forward to
seeing you in Kentucky.
- Thank you, Lillian, who
is the sister of my heart.
And I wanna welcome everyone
to Floyd County here
in Southeastern Kentucky,
where the soil is so good
that we can grow tomatoes,
one half runners and silver queen,
but where the soul of
the community is so rich
that we cultivate qualities
like hope and empathy.
And we understand the
power of storytelling,
which makes this the
absolute perfect place
for Narrative 4.
And in the five years I've
been part of this program,
I have been blessed to have the support
of my superintendent,
who is not only been there
for me when I just had it
in the classroom, but
who also supported me,
when I wanted to reach out to Quebec,
which is our local educational cooperative
with this idea of having
Narrative 4 Appalachia.
And even in this time of pandemic,
but he looked at me and saying,
"Why would you do that?"
They said, "Why not?"
So now, in this upcoming school year,
we're gonna reach up to 23
different school districts.
And if that's not enough,
I am now working with Colum McCann
to create learning modules
for his transformative novel,
Apeirogon so that
students can benefit from
that novel experience,
not only here but elsewhere
in the United States
and even around the world.
But wait, I mean, literally there's more,
a couple of weeks ago,
I was in a story exchange with
Ishmael Beah who is a father,
a husband, a humanitarian and author.
And he is a man who
really lives by the creed,
a vacant art mailer who said,
"Thou shall not be a bystander."
So here it is to Ishmael Beah.
- Thank you, Mary,
for holding my story and
for your deep listening,
for allowing something that
it is incredibly difficult
to talk about at times to be hurt deeply.
One of the amazing things
about sharing a story,
if the listener's willing it
is that, for me in particular,
it always depends my spirit, my humanity,
my constant learning in this world.
When I take on another person's story,
I feel like value has
been added to my life,
and that I will go on to
understand things differently
and to respond to life differently.
And these tools are very
necessary and essential
in how we move about in the world.
So thank you for all of
you who have participated
in story exchanges with
Narrative 4 over the years
and will continue to do so.
It is very exciting to see
what is happening all over the world
and how one narrative
is folding into the next
in so many communities,
countries, around the world.
Narrative 4 has been focusing on expansion
in variety of locations this year,
including the African continent,
which is very dear to me.
And the wonderful news is that
we've been waiting for
this for a long time
to go into African continent,
where we have a lot of
communities in context,
in which there's a lot of
division and misunderstanding,
and people have not had
a way to sit together
to really talk to understand
how much they have in common.
But to just hear each other's story,
Narrative 4 also comes in this spaces,
but the clearly in the African continent
where we already have
a tradition of story.
So this methodology just
sort of naturally fits
into how you would be
able to create spaces,
safe enough to talk to each other
and to listen to each other
deeply and to make changes.
One of the things that I
have been interested in,
in Narrative 4 story exchange
and the power of it was
to really see how it would
work on the African continent.
So I'm extremely grateful
that this is rolling
and it's happening and that Bucci, my man,
is in charge of it.
I'm extremely proud of the movement
that Narrative 4 has done.
So thank you to all of
you, who've made it happen,
and I'm sure he's gonna make,
some wonderful things out of it.
Now, in addition to that,
one of the things that
Narrative 4 is also doing,
is not just a tap into people's
potential in these places
and to have people sit and talk,
but to also invest in projects
that actually have yield
to something life changing
for people in their communities.
And one of such projects,
it's the one that
Yamkaela just spoke about,
a trash to treasure project
in Joe Slovo Township in
port Elizabeth, South Africa.
A very poor marginalized neighborhood,
but nonetheless the spirits
and the intelligence of
the people there are not.
And so this project is really spearheaded
by people who live in the community.
They came up with the idea
as Yamkaela mentioned.
And so again, ownership
of the project itself,
is always sustainable for one,
but also gives dignity
or leaves the dignity
in touch of the people
who are in these places.
So I'm deeply, deeply honored and thrilled
that this is happening.
And I'm excited to see what
the outcomes is going to be
because when you give people an idea
of how their lives can progress
by also being useful to their community,
why that is happening,
these two things combine together always,
something that wonderful
can come out of it.
So people clean their
neighborhood, but by doing so,
they will be able to have
access to certain things
that did not have access to food stamps,
vouchers, medical care,
maybe even school and books for schools
in things that they did not know.
But most importantly, also an idea,
and the reason to wake up and
think differently every day
and feel that there is something
you can do to contribute
and that by doing so you will
gain something out of it.
So I'm absolutely, absolutely,
absolutely thrilled about this.
Now, I'm going to read just a little bit
and then I would continue
on with this wonderful thing
that we're doing with
Narrative 4's exchange.
So this is from my first
book, "Little Family."
I mean my not my first
book, my third book,
it feels like my first book
because of how the year has been going,
but that's another story.
If you were to walk
toward a field that lies
at the edge of the small town of Fallujah,
when the sun is awakened the sky,
you will hear the breeze
whistling through the grasses part
in the dry and green strands,
as it makes its way to you,
or maybe you would
think it is the rustling
of someone hiding under the vast shrubs.
At the end of the field,
your eyes would light up on the face
of a boy among the grasses,
pairing intently at something.
You try to see what it
is by following the trail
of his gaze, but you see nothing.
"Hello," you say,
the boy does not respond,
only narrows his eyelids against the wind.
You stare back at his face
in which youth is steeped
in something serious and old
in stories you want to know.
You try your luck again.
"Good morning," you do
not know what else to say.
Caution, Trump's curiosity.
You sense that he should not move closer.
He does not respond.
In fact, nothing about
his demeanor suggests
that he is even aware of your presence.
Your eyes search his face one last time,
then you give a sigh and
continue on your way.
Yet as you go, you glance back
still hopeful of an answer.
And then just as you have given up
and turn your full
attention to the road ahead,
you hear him whistle.
Immediately, several answering
whistles fill the air,
you become confused.
Should you move on ahead
and go back to the boy?
You're more aware of your fear
now, but at the same time,
your belly burns with cautious excitement.
You do not know which feeling to pursue.
While you hesitate, the
shrubs begin a vigorous dance,
but when you look again to
where the boy was sitting,
he's gone without you
having heard him leave.
You set aside your fear
and try all the pathways
that are visible to you,
but none goes any distance.
Each time you find yourself returned
to where the boy was sitting,
the smaller plan stretching
to regain themselves
in the wake of his human weight.
Thank you for listening again.
And in order to stretch the
wake of that human weight,
we're gonna take you to port
Elizabeth, South Africa,
and I'm going to introduce you
to a remarkable, amazing poet.
I can't wait to read her
publication, hopefully fairly soon
and a college student, and
then for global ambassador,
from a native of Port Elizabeth,
particularly at Joe Slovo town
where I was just talking
about, Babalwa Tetyana,
who is going to read for you her poem.
- Thank you so much,
Ishmael, for your words,
for your guidance, for your support.
Thank you for being a
powerful voice for Africa
and most importantly,
thank you for being an advocate
for children everywhere.
I've been involved in
Narrative 4 since 2014.
And I strongly believe that
I'm a walking testimony
of the work that
Narrative 4 strives to do.
I have been able to use the skills
that Narrative 4 equipped
me with to bring change
in my own community.
I've been able
to use personal narratives
from my own community
to break stereotypes,
to just to bring teams
to better people's lives,
to help people understand themselves,
to help people understand
each other better.
And there's still a lot more work to do.
There are still way too
many lives to change.
And I still plan to bring
this work to my community
and bring more change using
Narrative 4 using all the skills
that I've learned from Narrative 4.
So with that being said,
I have a poem that I'm going
to read titled, "I Am From."
I'm of a township
where love is the neighbors
dancing across the street
with hands clenching
glasses of hard liquor,
happiness as a visiting butterfly
that sometimes I wish it would visit more
and stay a little longer.
So do not ask me questions,
when you see my eyes bottling tears,
I was taught to swallow them.
I'm from a place where we
learned to cry silently,
before we learn to hold our spoons,
numbing wounds beyond skin
has become the way of life.
I'm of a township, where
it is nothing much.
It is nothing much,
until boiled emotions explode,
like a raging soda can in fire.
It is nothing much,
her 13 year old spine is bending backwards
to support the life
developing in her womb.
It is nothing much,
young men standing at a door
for shop begging for 50 cents,
one rand to help them
escape, to help them forget.
It is nothing much.
It is nothing much as a chorus
we all know how to move to.
When someone asks about your pain,
smile and say, "I don't drink alcohol."
Thank you.
I know, thank you so much.
I know my voice and stories will continue
to be part of the
narrative of South Africa.
And I am proud to send this
message to my fellow students
in Port Elizabeth,
and I'm more than proud
of the path that I'm going
and of the place that I can
already see South Africa
and Port Elizabeth becoming,
using what I have
learned from Narrative 4.
- What an incredible performance,
what an amazing evening!
I'm Darrell Bourque (indistinct)
deployed from Louisiana,
and one of the founding
members of Narrative 4.
Narrative 4 was founded out of the belief
in the power of the story.
When Lisa Consiglio and Colum
McCann invited the writers
who founded Narrative 4 with them,
it was with the conviction
that stories change the world,
always have, that stories
shaped by identity,
that stories are records of
our capacity for violence
and records of our aspirations
for peace, for home,
for hope, for freedom of movement,
for freedom to imagine,
for freedom itself.
A few weeks ago,
I was fortunate
to lead an event centered
around my latest book of poems,
"McGrory," a book of poems
in collaboration with
artists Bill Jingles.
The poems of McGrory come
directly out of my work
with Narrative 4 and its major themes,
faith, identity, environment,
violence, immigration.
Today, Narrative 4 is a
youth-powered movement.
We go directly
into schools like University
Heights High School
in the Bronx and Floyd
County Central High School
in Eastern Kentucky.
We go into schools and
communities in Mexico, Ireland,
Africa, Israel, Palestine,
and other parts of the world.
The mission to hear the
stories changing lives,
which in turn changed the
lives of the communities
that hold them.
Stories, becoming promises of faith,
stories becoming covenant.
I'd like to read a short poem,
from McGrory entitled
"The Yellow Covenant."
Rumi met Shams of Tabriz in
the square transfiguration,
nothing loud here among the penitents,
books and water
or burned a disquisition
on a donkey maybe,
then the yellow covenant.
That it is darkness,
just before the light of
dawn is just not true.
Nothing is as uncertain as an easy saying.
Ask any early rise of pilgrimages
on his way to the yellow covenant.
Flowers you don't see in
the white light of moon
or in the middle of the night or there.
They don't need you as you need them,
as they need the sun
inside the yellow covenant.
The mystic forgets the given
name or hangs little on it,
can carry his names in a coin purse.
Loss of names is not loss of everything.
The sun names nothing
in the yellow covenant.
We need person to person promise.
We need person to person faith.
In times of rupture and unrest,
like these rupture often bears the names
of the fallen, Michael Brown,
Trayvon Martin, George
Floyd, Sandra Bland,
Breonna Taylor, and so many more.
We need the restorative
power of the story.
The story has document, the story as guide
and pathway to a better
way to the open heart,
to the other side.
It is with honor that I
hand this message over
to a fellow southerner,
a citizen of the world,
a singer, songwriter who changes us all
with her storytelling power.
She and her family have been bringing us
to the other side for years.
Ladies and gentlemen, Rosanne Cash.
- Thank you Daryl.
It's an honor to be here.
Thank you so much for inviting me.
I was born in the South in Memphis,
but I live in New York City.
So I do know something
about the stereotypes
we hold for each other.
The cultural divide, the social divide
and how hard it is to
reach across the aisles
and the mile sometimes.
And I also know how healing music can be.
And as Sting said earlier,
how healing it is to tell our stories
and how much hope it gives
us to tell our own stories,
and music is one way I tell my story.
Music's part of my DNA,
soar the instincts for social justice
and the thought of
supporting these young people
through Narrative 4 is a privilege,
and to help them support them
in telling their own stories
and healing their own communities.
So this is a song that John Leventhal
and I wrote together
about finding the road
that fits your own shoes and
walking into a future of love.
This is called 50,000
Watts of common prayer.
- One, two.
♪ It's a hard road but
it fits your shoes ♪
♪ Son of rhythm and brother of the blues ♪
♪ The sound of darkness,
the pull of the oak ♪
♪ Everything is broken
and painted in smoke ♪
♪ But there's a light on
Sunday, a new design ♪
♪ The sound of the whistle,
those radio wires ♪
♪ Love in your future,
I'll wait for you there ♪
♪ Put 50,000 watts of a common prayer ♪
♪ 50,000 watts of common prayer ♪
♪ 50,000 watts of common prayer ♪
♪ To be who we are and not who we were ♪
♪ A sister to him, a brother to her ♪
♪ We'll live like kings without any sin ♪
♪ Redemption will come,
just tune it all in ♪
♪ But there's a light on
Sunday, a new design ♪
♪ The sound of the whistle,
those radio wires ♪
♪ Love in your future,
I'll wait for you there ♪
♪ Put 50,000 watts of a common prayer ♪
♪ 50,000 watts of common prayer ♪
♪ 50,000 watts of common prayer ♪
♪ My common prayer ♪
♪ 50,000 watts of common prayer ♪
- And now it's my great pleasure
to introduce you to my fellow
New Yorker, Janelle Molina.
- Thank you, Rosanne, for
the song, the message,
the introduction, and especially the hope
and inspiration your family
has been giving us for decades.
Music is a huge part of my life
because it's my costume reminder
that I don't want to be
alone in my feelings,
that I don't have to go through
hardships and celebrations,
all on my own,
that I can love me simply for being me.
Narrative 4 is also huge part of my life
because in making global connections,
I can better craft my story,
and I can feel confident
when grounded in my identity
as a Hispanic female in the Bronx.
As a young person,
growing in a society that
can sometimes feel isolated,
I often see myself
in the lyrics a song writer puts to music,
the words an author puts to a page.
Since I've been in Narrative 4,
I've been really luckily
to meet authors artists
all around the world,
will unify us in their stories.
They understand our pain and
they help us come to terms
with their ever changing identities.
Rosanne Cash does just that,
and so does Marlon James.
Marlon's work challenges us.
He brings us to new
space as new countries,
and he tells us it's
okay to be conflicted,
allows us to be who we truly are.
I'm happy to introduce you
to a best selling author
and amazing person and a great friend
in our effort, Marlon James.
- Thank you so much, Janelle,
thank you for such a
fantastic introduction
and thanks to you all for
tuning in and for watching.
This is a great night and
these great performances.
I mean, you know, Narrative 4,
I remember from the days it was a concept
on a cocktail napkin that Colum McCann,
was telling me about way
back in Harlem years ago.
And to see what he has become
and to see what it means to the people.
You know, we're pretty late in this.
We're late in realizing the power of story
and that the one thing we
all have in common is that
we have a story to tell,
and there are people who think
their lives are too difficult
to talk about it.
And there are people who
think their lives are too easy
or simple, a privilege to talk about.
And the thing about
that is both of those are rooted in shame.
And both of those pretend
that our stories aren't
worth telling simply
because we have a story to tell,
and that's really all
you need to tell a story
that you just have one.
And I think particularly
on a night like this,
about music and literature and how much
that has played a role in my storytelling.
And I'm gonna read us about a moment
where two people tried to
bridge a gap with music.
The two people are my mother and myself,
and it's from a piece called
"One Day I Will Write About My Mother,"
One late morning, years ago,
we were alone in the house.
I still live there.
So I was probably 24 or 25.
I can't remember where we were alone,
but I do remember her
knocking on my room door,
walking in jittery and anxious.
"Get up," she said, "Quick,"
I did what 20 somethings
did and I asked why.
I lay on the bed,
trying to decide between
the Jane's Addiction
and Mother Love Bone CDs.
"Just get up," she said, "Dance with me."
I didn't know what to do.
Worse, this looked like a
serious request, not a joke.
She stood there waiting
in the same sundress,
she always wore, her hair rolled up.
"I don't dance," I said.
She didn't hear me but started singing,
and it was only when she got to the chorus
that I realized it was
Tennessee Waltz by Patti Page.
She said, "It was her favorite song,
but had never heard it on the radio."
She had probably not heard
this song in 40 years.
My mother was still by the door waiting.
I was still on the bed
waiting for her to leave,
and the awkwardness between us grew thick.
As she walked away,
I wondered if that was her last shot
at being who she was 40 years ago,
and my last shot at seeing her
when she was younger than me.
Thank you.
And with that, I am gonna hand it over
to the fantastic New Orleans
musicians, Sunpie Barnes,
who was at the Narrative 4
Summit in New Orleans last year
and is joining us virtually this year.
So Sunpie take it away.
- What a difference the year makes!
You know, last year I had
the pleasure and honor
of being asked by Narrative 4,
to join them in their
eighth annual global summit
that brought students,
teachers, ports and musicians here
to my hometown in New Orleans.
We had a great time, second
line dancing in the owls.
It was a magical night.
We're all here together again,
brought together by music
at this most pivotal time
on our planet.
So many things have changed
over the course of the year.
Hardships that are unimaginable,
some triumphs, also a lot of
tragedy, anger and frustration.
I believe through our
common empathy for mankind,
that we can share a platform
that will help us move
past all of these things,
and be able to have a better
world view of each other.
I personally believe that music
is one of the best platforms
on the planet that people can
use to explain the history,
who they are to have
understanding of others
and speak in a very honest,
clear, and direct way about
how they feel.
I wanna share with you a song right now
that I compose about a
story, a case rather.
Here in the United States,
the only case
where enslaved Africans sued
the United States government
and found their own freedom,
something is so important right now.
It happened many, many years ago in 1841,
the main character gentlemen
named Madison Robinson
who had the courage
and the thought process
to be able to initiate this change.
The ship that they sailed
on was called a brig Creole.
So I entitled the song The Brig Creole.
♪ Madison Washington, the brig Creole ♪
♪ The story of liberty and
justice, for one and all ♪
♪ Madison Washington, the brig Creole ♪
♪ The story of liberty and
justice, for one and all ♪
♪ In 1841, the brig sailed
from their journey to coast ♪
♪ It is for New Orleans when
enslave was sold the most ♪
♪ 135 (indistinct) bodies bow
to the (indistinct) floor ♪
♪ Remorse and pleads for mercy ♪
♪ White passengers didn't go ♪
♪ But with each passing wave ♪
♪ Freedom has purged deep in my heart ♪
♪ The longing for liberty and
justice became paramount ♪
(indistinct)
♪ Madison Washington long with the man ♪
♪ Along with 1790s, the
brig didn't secure ♪
♪ The ship is not bound for NASA ♪
♪ That I can't assure ♪
♪ As we tasted liberty and justice ♪
♪ And the time for victorious quarter ♪
♪ Some stayed in NASA, some
headed for Jamaica ports ♪
♪ So look out for freedom soldiers ♪
♪ For these are next of kin ♪
♪ We're coming as women
and children (indistinct) ♪
♪ Madison Washington, the brig Creole ♪
♪ The story of liberty and
justice, for one and all ♪
♪ Madison Washington, the brig Creole ♪
♪ The story of liberty and
justice, for one and all ♪
♪ Madison Washington, the brig Creole ♪
♪ The story of freedom and
justice, for one and all ♪
♪ Madison Washington, the brig Creole ♪
♪ The story of liberty and
justice, for one and all ♪
♪ In 1841, the brig sailed
from their journey coast ♪
♪ Headed for New Orleans where
then slave was sold the most ♪
♪ 135 (indistinct) bodies bow
to the (indistinct) floor ♪
♪ Remorse and pleads for mercy ♪
♪ White passengers didn't know ♪
♪ But with each passing wave ♪
♪ Freedom has purged deep in my heart ♪
♪ The longing for liberty and
justice became paramount ♪
(indistinct)
♪ And he ordered through first hand ♪
♪ Madison Washington, long with the man ♪
♪ Along with 17 others,
the brig he did secured ♪
♪ The ship was not bound for
NASA and back (indistinct) ♪
♪ As we tasted liberty
and justice (indistinct) ♪
♪ Some stayed in NASA, some
headed for Jamaica's port ♪
♪ So look out for freedom soldiers ♪
♪ For these are next of kin ♪
♪ We're coming as women
and children (indistinct) ♪
♪ Madison Washington, the brig Creole ♪
♪ The story of liberty and
justice, for one and all ♪
♪ Madison Washington, the brig Creole ♪
♪ The story of freedom and
justice, for one and all ♪
- Thanks so much Bruce,
and that was wonderful.
And I'm just sorry that
we can't be together
in new Orleans again this year.
Hi, my name is Rob Spillman.
I'm one of the founders of Narrative 4
and I'm part of the artists network.
I'm also a master practitioner
and I've had the honor of taking part
in story exchanges around the world.
And I'm a firm believer
in the power of story
and the mission of Narrative 4.
Today, I'm gonna read a poem
by Mary Oliver called "Sometimes,"
which speaks to me for the
mission of Narrative 4.
Sometimes.
Something came up out of the dark.
It wasn't anything I had ever seen before.
It wasn't an animal or a flower,
unless it was both.
Something came up out of the water,
a head the size of a cat
but muddy and without ears.
I don't really know what God is.
I don't know what death is.
But I believe that between them,
some fervent and necessary arrangement.
Sometimes melancholy leaves me breathless.
Glitter, I was in a
field full of sunflowers.
I was feeling the heat of mid-summer.
I was thinking of the sweet
electric drowse of creation,
when it began to break.
In the West, clouds gathered thunderheads.
In an hour, the sky was filled with them.
In an hour, the sky was filled
with a sweetness of rain
and the blast of lightning followed
by the deep bells of thunder,
water from the heavens,
electricity from the source,
both of them mad to create something.
The lightning brighter than any flower,
but thunder, without a
drowsy bone in its body.
Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention, be
astonished, tell about it.
Two or three times in my life,
I discovered love.
Each time, it seemed to solve everything.
Each time, it solved a great many things,
but not everything.
Yet left me as grateful
as if it had indeed
and thoroughly solved everything.
God, rest in my heart and fortify me,
take my hunger for answers.
Let the hours play upon my body.
Like the hands of my beloved.
Let the cat head appear again.
The smallest of your mysteries.
Some wild cousin of my own blood probably,
some cousin of my own wild blood probably,
in the black dinner bowl of the pond.
Death waits for me.
I know it around one corner or another.
This doesn't amuse me,
neither does it frighten me.
After the rain, I went into
the field of sunflowers.
It was cool, and I see
anything but drowsy.
I walked slowly and
listened to the crazy roots
in the drenched earth,
laughing and growling.
Thank you.
- Thank you, Rob.
Hello everyone,
in this planetary pause
that has brought us all home
to our knees during this global pandemic,
it's not been easy.
And I've often wondered
if this moment of undoing,
will be, are becoming that finding beauty
in a broken world is creating
beauty in the world we find.
We are eroding and evolving at once.
This story it happened
was my erosion of logic.
We were in the Arctic.
It snowed the snow storm,
turned into a blizzard.
For days, we were confined to the tent,
picking out just long enough
to see we had zero visibility.
And then one night after too
many to count, it cleared.
We walked out of our tent and
stood beneath a shimmering,
Aurora Borealis and watch
dancing streamers of light,
green, blue, red, yellow.
A sound akin to Tibetan singing bowls,
emanated from the North.
Above a jacket tooth like peek,
silhouetted against the
display of Northern lights.
There was a rotating circle of red flares.
My partner, and I saw it at the same time.
And we wondered what it could be.
We ran back to our tents
to get our binoculars
and looked again.
A plane, no.
A helicopter, none at all.
A satellite, no.
We wondered what it could be.
It rose up, move laterally
as if run by some kind of Astro Geomancy,
and then vanished.
That night, you might say I was abducted.
It wasn't as if I was taken
by green men into a spaceship,
not at all,
but it was like being
inhabited by an alien being.
It felt as if I was dreaming
and being visited inside my body at once.
A specific entity spoke to me.
It said, "You've got it wrong.
It isn't oil, you should be following.
It's too crude.
Please believe me when I
tell you this is true."
This entity said,
"Follow the paths of
the Caribou in the North
and the Prairie dogs in the West.
It is their migrations and settlements
that follow energy lines,
but it isn't the kind of
energy you think it is."
The visitor who inhabited my body began
to recite a list of place
names from around the world.
From Perth, Australia to
three villages in Russia,
to a small desert Hamlet in Aneth, Utah.
I was madly taking notes with my left hand
in my small notebook that is
always by my side when I sleep.
Even as my eyes were closed,
I was recording the names
of these subtle energy lines
that were being given to me.
And then the encounter was over.
When I awoke the next morning,
the experience was still alive in me.
I walked out of the tent into the snow.
The sun was just cresting
over the white peaks.
The shadow I cast on the
frozen ground was not mine,
what has been guarded must now be shared,
what has been hidden mess now be revealed.
This happened.
I have a map.
Stories are a map.
Narrative 4 is mapping those stories.
And each time we have a story exchange,
it is an exchange of heart and mind.
I love Narrative 4,
won't you join us in
this planetary exchange?
It is now my great pleasure
to introduce the incomparable Sting
as he leaves us with his final message.
♪ If blood will flow when
flesh and steel are one ♪
♪ Drying in the color of the evening sun ♪
♪ Tomorrow's rain will
wash the stains away ♪
♪ But something in our
minds will always stay ♪
♪ Perhaps this final act was meant ♪
♪ To clinch a lifetime's argument ♪
♪ That nothing comes from
violence and nothing ever could ♪
♪ For all those born
beneath an angry star ♪
♪ Lest we forget how fragile we are ♪
♪ On and on the rain will fall ♪
♪ Like tears from a star ♪
♪ Like tears from a star ♪
♪ On and on the rain will say ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
♪ On and on the rain will fall ♪
♪ Like tears from a star ♪
♪ Like tears from a star ♪
♪ On and on the rain will say ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
♪ How fragile we are ♪
