songs about roving, rambling and plain hard luck & photography from the other side …

our night riding, midnight gliding, morning dancing

© Falckensteinstr., Berlin, 2017 Florian Fritsch

But babe I’ll be back when the sun starts to seep through the leaves / When I can sing you a song as you sing along on these magic Berlin streets / With our night riding / Midnight gliding / Morning dancing / Pavement prancing / You know oh you know / You know I’ll be back to live this town / Oh you know I’ll be back to love this town (Alice Phoebe Lou)

to drop some golden orb of perfect song into our deep, dear silence

© Avishai Cohen, Berlin, 2017, Florian Fritsch

When our two souls stand up erect and strong / Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher / Until the lengthening wings break into fire / At either curvèd point,—what bitter wrong / Can the earth do to us, that we should not long / Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher / The angels would press on us and aspire / To drop some golden orb of perfect song / Into our deep, dear silence. (Avishai Cohen, poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

sock it, rock it, heat it, beat it, then fling it at ‘em

© Amok Amor, Berlin, 2017, Florian Fritsch

Do that thing, jazz band! / Whip it to a jelly / Sock it; rock it; heat it; beat it; then fling it at ‘em / Let the jazz stuff fall like hell on king and truck driver, queen and laundress, lord and laborer, banker and bum (Amok Amor, poem by Frank Marshall Davis)

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