Potential dialogue for a project I am working on.. In honor of my family, who subdues the earth and husbands animals incredibly well.
Farmers aren’t rich. They’re gamblers, addicted to rolling the dice on the sky. Sometimes they win, sometimes it hails.
My Grandad gambled on the skies cause there was something holy about it.
I’m practicing holiness by betting on the songs in my soul.
Maybe I’ll win, maybe I’ll…
Well… I don’t really see I have any other option.
So, here’s to holiness in B flat.