Hands of Kindness
With No Strings Attached
Friends abound in this part of town. Handy fix-it folks rub shoulders with multi-millionaires. Hands in pockets, or hands of kindness with no strings attached. Faces smiling with eyes containing no harm. Stardust glittering on faded curtains from long ago days, seen from a rusting fire escape. Seeing the light through the clouds on an overcast day. A sight for sore eyes, and a place often mentioned. Ask and you’ll receive, I once read in a book handed down and rewritten through the ages. Buddy, if you don’t ask for it in Raintown, you ain’t receiving nothing. Where are we going? To the place where time expands and becomes timelessness, and then collapses in on itself. Time after time. It’s a universal tale passed down through the ages. On street corners and on stages. A song and a story often offer comfort when you most need it. Back streets and jazz clubs call out to all who pass through this part of town. Ears are open to Standards and sounds so new they’ve never been played before. Only dreamed up and made up and held onto in the innermost place where music gets changed, where lives open up again and again. The healing power of music, laughter, and ears open to hear.