🎼 “A Tribute to The Sandwich Interweavers"

(Intro – ocean air, morning light) East Sandwich… two acres breathing under sky… On Nye and old 6A where time doesn’t rush, it watches A house… a cottage… an old barn… waiting for bodies to remember themselves Verse 1 In the East Sandwich house, windows wide Light falling soft where we couldn’t hide The cottage held the quieter parts The places beneath our practiced starts And the barn renovated, worn but true Held something ancient moving through Chairs aligned like witnesses there As lifetimes loosened into air. Pre-Chorus Ten interweaves, simple, precise Not advice… not force… not sacrifice But dismantling what held too tight Letting structure return to light Chorus Safe travels now, you changing form 🧳 From held and braced to newly born From generations lived in bone To something softer… being known Bodies reshaping, quiet, profound Less effort up… more support down And what was carried, long and deep No longer something you must keep [Verse 2 – deeper, grounded in training + group field] We learned to see… not what we thought But what was there, precise, unbought To analyze the conditions present Not personal… but universal, resonant Triads turning, roles exchanged Practitioner, client… observer changed And somewhere in the watching eye The field grew wide… the self grew sky [Pre-Chorus 2 – attunement + principles] Stick to the principles, steady, clear Not chasing outcome, not led by fear Inhibit first… let direction arise And watch the system reorganize Chorus – Safe travels now, you living spine 🧳 Between the ancient and the divine From holding patterns shaped by pain To freedom moving through the frame We reveal ourselves in how we stand In how we don’t… and how we can And what was braced against the past Now softens… and does not have to last [Bridge –( Martin enters) From London he came, quiet, exact Martin Warner Not adding more… but removing the act Hands that listened more than led Undoing what the mind had said Head… body… relationship refined And suddenly attunement wasn’t something to find. In that old barn—wood and breath— You could feel the edges of life and death Not dramatic but real… A cry held back for years finally beginning to feel A cry beneath the surface line Taking a lifetime… to find its time And no one rushed it No one pulled “It will come out… when it is ready…” (and the room stayed steady) Final Chorus Safe travels now, you open field 🧳 No longer something that must be sealed From what arises, what appears From all those long-embedded years We reveal ourselves in breath and bone In being met… and being known And what has shifted will remain A different relationship… to strain [Outro – quiet, spacious, Cape Cod wind] The cottage… the house… the barn still stands But something left… in your hands Not technique not memory But a way of being that no longer needs to hurry Safe travels to everyone entering the next phase of their practices 🧳 Time... Not finished… Just… more true..