Gord Downie: Kind Freedom

It comes at last a time

When you simply hear

The grief of artists, politicians


It’s hard

You hoist your black flag.

Gord Downie

A story of musical stuff

A river of words

The tormenting pleasure of the maybe

Our icon in this wide Canadian setting

The notion of home.

The Tragically Hip

Decades of history in a confusing landscape

Bridging, scarring truths then and now.

If we feel confusion

It’s because their territory becomes ours.

The simplicity of craving in our taste

The encounter of accorded chords

How they feel tender in our beings.

They were ahead by a century

A new sound

An undeniable gather

In a new era.

We are today richer

Winged citizens

Of minded nature

Kind freedom.

Thank you Tragically Hip!

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