I like Brooke Fraser, its like she has a song for every occasion. This was never one of my favourite songs but I guess it soon will be.
Cheers to the furrows on our brow
To each hard won victory
Cheers to the losses that grew us up
Killed our pride and filled our cup
Cheers to the friendships well worn in
That time nor distance alter
Here's to the sleepers we'll see again
Fine company in memoriam
Open your mouth and sing out your song
Life is short as the day is long
I can't leave you my body but I'll leave you a tune
This is my legacy
Cheers to you
Cheers to the passing of our youth
And the death of lust not wonder
A toast to the lessons not yet learned
And to the trials that will teach them
Open your mouth and sing out your song
Life is short as the day is long
I can't leave you my body but I'll leave you a tune
This is my legacy
Cheers to you
Open your mouth and sing out your song
Life is short as the day is long
I can't leave you my body but I'll leave you a tune
Open your mouth and sing out your song
Life is short as the day is long
I can't leave you my body but I'll leave you a tune
This is my legacy
This is my legacy
This is my legacy
Cheers to you
---
I never forgot that day, January 8th 2011, that rain. Things changed and not everything turned out the way I expected it to, but the image of that rain and what it meant always stuck to me. It a downpour with strong winds, and in the weather the rain doesn't hit you like pellets from above but as a cool mist that sweeps at you almost horizontally. The feeling of that mist across my skin, somewhat stinging but yet comfortable.
Its been blistering heat non stop for the past month, but this week the weather seemed to have taken a turn. Heavy rains and thunderstorms. One morning as I stood under the shelter beside the parade square, the cool mist returns to me like an old friend from the past, and I remembered.
Streetlights and car lights glow orange. The little droplets light up as they descend and we charge through the night.
I always associated the throwing of the jockey cap as liberty. Its the freedom from BMT, from the life of a recruit. And perhaps now, the timing couldn't be more right. This sunday, I'll be standing at the floating platform and I'll throw that cap high. As high as it can possibly go. For I know that in more ways than one, a new chapter has begun.
Who knows, according to the weather forecast, the old friend may pay a visit too. I hope it doesn't hinder the cap throwing.
Cheers to you.
---
Cheers to the furrows on our brow
To each hard won victory
Cheers to the losses that grew us up
Killed our pride and filled our cup
Cheers to the friendships well worn in
That time nor distance alter
Here's to the sleepers we'll see again
Fine company in memoriam
Open your mouth and sing out your song
Life is short as the day is long
I can't leave you my body but I'll leave you a tune
This is my legacy
Cheers to you
Cheers to the passing of our youth
And the death of lust not wonder
A toast to the lessons not yet learned
And to the trials that will teach them
Open your mouth and sing out your song
Life is short as the day is long
I can't leave you my body but I'll leave you a tune
This is my legacy
Cheers to you
Open your mouth and sing out your song
Life is short as the day is long
I can't leave you my body but I'll leave you a tune
Open your mouth and sing out your song
Life is short as the day is long
I can't leave you my body but I'll leave you a tune
This is my legacy
This is my legacy
This is my legacy
Cheers to you
---
I never forgot that day, January 8th 2011, that rain. Things changed and not everything turned out the way I expected it to, but the image of that rain and what it meant always stuck to me. It a downpour with strong winds, and in the weather the rain doesn't hit you like pellets from above but as a cool mist that sweeps at you almost horizontally. The feeling of that mist across my skin, somewhat stinging but yet comfortable.
Its been blistering heat non stop for the past month, but this week the weather seemed to have taken a turn. Heavy rains and thunderstorms. One morning as I stood under the shelter beside the parade square, the cool mist returns to me like an old friend from the past, and I remembered.
Streetlights and car lights glow orange. The little droplets light up as they descend and we charge through the night.
I always associated the throwing of the jockey cap as liberty. Its the freedom from BMT, from the life of a recruit. And perhaps now, the timing couldn't be more right. This sunday, I'll be standing at the floating platform and I'll throw that cap high. As high as it can possibly go. For I know that in more ways than one, a new chapter has begun.
Who knows, according to the weather forecast, the old friend may pay a visit too. I hope it doesn't hinder the cap throwing.
Cheers to you.
---