Under a sky that spills silver into the ocean of night, a rhythm is born. The land, barren and endless, holds secrets beneath a crust of moon dust. Lunar jazz resonates, fleeting notes weaved into the void, where cosmic winds carry melodies unheard.
Imagine, if you will, the sarefiddles—the symbiotic astral strings whose bow is the comet's tail, playing celestial tunes with riffs that wrap around the stars, each chord a spark of nebula dreams.
The moon hums, an age-old saxophone washed by the tides of galaxies, its conformations shaped over epochs by the bittersweet aroma of obscured harmonies. The bass, slow and resolute like a planet's orbit, steadies the improvisation of cosmic strides.
Listen close! As you bend an ear toward the sea-channeled whispers, a pair of echo arches arise: shells whispering secrets to earthen hearts, melding sea and sky with azure thoughts.