“Tie My Laces”
Album (2025)
1.
“On The Bridge”
Lyrics
“On The Bridge”
Inspired by a classic Daoist parable from the Zhuangzi
We’re standing on a bridge above the river flow,
Sunlight on the water, letting all our questions go.
I point to the ripples, say, “Look at them swim-
Those silver little dancers, don’t they look like they grin?”
But you laugh and you say, “How could you ever know?
You’re not a fish, you’re just a poet with a show.”
I smile and reply, “Well, you’re not me.
How can you be sure that I don’t feel their glee?”
Oh, we talk in circles, chasing tails and dreams,
Truth is a river, not as simple as it seems.
Maybe I’m a fish, maybe you’re the sky,
Maybe we’re just stories drifting by.
You say, “I’m not you, and you’re not me,
But here we are together, lost in mystery.”
I say, “Let’s go back to where we began-
I saw the fish were happy, and you saw that I can.”
Words like water, slipping through our hands,
Questions with no answers, only shifting sands.
Maybe knowing’s just a dance we do,
A bridge between the me and the you.
Oh, we talk in circles, chasing tails and dreams,
Truth is a river, not as simple as it seems.
Maybe I’m a fish, maybe you’re the sky,
Maybe we’re just stories drifting by.
So let’s stand here laughing, let’s stand here still,
Let the river carry what it will.
If happiness is knowing, or just letting go,
Let’s watch the fishes and let the questions flow.
Oh, we talk in circles, chasing tails and dreams,
Truth is a river, not as simple as it seems.
Our shadows ripple on the waters’ face-
Does the river move, or does the bridge drift in space?
On the bridge, on the bridge, let the world go by-
Maybe we’re the fishes, and maybe we can fly.
Interpretation
“On The Bridge” — Knowing, Flowing, and Letting Go
“On The Bridge” transforms an ancient Daoist parable from the Zhuangzi into a shimmering meditation on perception, empathy, and the playful impossibility of knowing. The song begins in the simplest of places — two people standing on a bridge, sunlight glinting on a moving river — yet from that still moment unfolds a profound dialogue about what it means to understand anything at all.
The opening verse captures a rare quiet: water, light, and the unhurried companionship of two minds in conversation. The image of “silver little dancers” and “sunlight on the water” makes the philosophical intimate and tactile. The speaker’s childlike wonder — “Don’t they look like they grin?” — sets the tone: knowledge here is born not from logic, but from empathy, from feeling one’s way into the life of another.
Then comes the gentle clash of worldviews. The skeptic asks, “You’re not a fish — how could you ever know?” The poet answers not with argument, but with paradox: “You’re not me — how can you be sure that I don’t?” In that exchange lies the song’s heart — the dance between reason and intuition, between the measurable and the mysterious.
The refrain expands this into a larger vision: “Truth is a river, not as simple as it seems.” Flow becomes the governing metaphor. Truth moves, bends, changes shape; it cannot be captured, only joined. Lines like “Maybe I’m a fish, maybe you’re the sky” and “Maybe we’re just stories drifting by” dissolve the boundaries between subject and object, between thinker and thought. Everything becomes part of the same current — fluid, connected, alive.
By the final verse, the argument has softened into laughter and stillness. The two voices no longer debate but coexist, watching the fish together, “letting the questions flow.” The song ends on a note of cosmic wonder: “Does the river move, or does the bridge drift in space?” — a direct echo of Daoist thought, where even what seems solid (the bridge, the self) may itself be in motion.
Ultimately, “On The Bridge” is not about winning a philosophical debate. It’s about surrender — to uncertainty, to connection, to the living rhythm of not knowing. The song invites us to trade certainty for curiosity, and in doing so, it embodies the Daoist spirit perfectly: wisdom not as mastery, but as harmony with the mystery.
2.
“Where Are The Numbers?”
Lyrics
“Where Are The Numbers?”
There’s a rhythm in the rain, in the hush between the drops
Patterns in the silence that never really stops
A spiral in the seed, a code in every shell
They whisper in the shadows, but they never really tell
I see them float behind your eyes
In galaxies and lullabies
They’re written where we cannot see
But something deep remembers three
Where are the numbers?
Where do they hide when no one counts?
Do they sleep in stars or climb the clouds?
Are they born or just revealed somehow?
Where are the numbers now?
They hum beneath the floor, they shine behind the leaves
They echo through the centuries, then vanish in the breeze
You can’t hold a seven, you can’t touch a ten
But they keep returning, again and again
A fingerprint without a hand
A secret song that understands
The way a snowflake always knows
To fall in six, not five or four
Where are the numbers?
In the breath between the tides?
In the pause where time divides?
We chase them, but they still confound
Where are the numbers now?
In sacred chants, in children’s games
In burning stars that write their names
In music that we feel, not hear
They’re always close, but never near
Where are the numbers?
Not in gold, not in the rules
But in the hush that follows fools
In wonder’s glow, in love unbound
Where are the numbers now?
Not in the answers…
But in the how
Where are the numbers…
Now?
Interpretation
The Hidden Arithmetic of Wonder
“Where Are the Numbers?” is not a song about mathematics — it’s a song about mystery. It takes something seemingly cold and rational, numbers, and turns them into a lens through which we glimpse the ineffable patterns behind existence. The song does not seek to explain; it seeks to awaken the listener to the quiet astonishment that hides inside the ordinary.
At its core, the song asks: Where do numbers live when no one counts them? This question transforms a logical concept into a spiritual inquiry. Numbers become symbols of the invisible order that threads through nature — the rhythm of the rain, the symmetry of a leaf, the recurring spiral of shells. They are not human inventions but echoes of a cosmic language that everything, in its own way, speaks.
The tone of the song is reverent yet playful, touching on the paradox that numbers are both abstract and omnipresent. We can’t touch them, yet they shape everything we touch. They are the fingerprints of creation, the scaffolding of stars and snowflakes, yet also ghosts — intangible, untouchable, purely relational.
By refusing to answer its own central question, the song honors uncertainty. The chorus doesn’t resolve; it drifts like a mantra. This open-endedness is essential: the listener is invited not to solve the question, but to dwell within it. In doing so, “Where Are the Numbers?” becomes a modern koan — a melodic riddle that turns logic into wonder.
Ultimately, the song reminds us that beauty lies not in what we can measure, but in what we can feel beyond measure. Numbers are the bones of the universe, but the mystery — the breath, the warmth — remains forever uncountable.
3.
“Stargazer”
Lyrics
“Stargazer”
I was ten, maybe twelve, the world still wide and kind,
Books and sky were gateways for a curious mind.
The dark above was velvet, stitched in silver thread,
And every name I learned lit fires inside my head.
I fell in love with the names of stars,
Like poems written deep in space.
Each one a whisper through the dark,
A secret song in silent grace.
We camped outside, two kids beneath the summer air,
A tent, a torch, the night—adventure everywhere.
We wandered quiet streets beneath the silent dome,
And I pointed to the stars, like names I’d always known.
He looked at me with raised eyebrows,
Half amazed, half backing out—
He said: “You really know all this?”
And I just shrugged: “You don’t?”
Sirius
Vega
Arcturus
Capella
Betelgeuse
Canopus
Altair
Spica
Denebola
I didn’t know that wonder wasn’t in us all,
That names could sound like music but not mean a call.
He blinked at me like I was speaking outer space—
I saw the distance written clearly on his face.
But stars don’t shine for praise or fame,
They burn in silence, just the same—
And maybe I was born that way,
To trace the dark and speak its name.
Rigel
Fomalhaut
Procyon
Aldebaran
Antares
Acrux
Pollux
Mirfak
Sadr
The beam I cast with my flashlight then—
A joke, a code, a child’s sign—
It’s traveling still through endless dark
And now it touches Alchiba’s shine.
Zubenelgenubi
Bellatrix
Alnitak
Dubhe
Alpheratz
Nunki
Almaak
Castor
Elnath
Interpretation
The Poetry of Knowing and Not Knowing
“Stargazer” is a meditation on curiosity, solitude, and the bittersweet beauty of difference. At its heart lies a child’s innocent fascination with the stars — not only with their light, but with their names. The narrator’s early love of celestial language (“I fell in love with the names of stars”) becomes a metaphor for the human impulse to seek meaning, order, and beauty in the infinite.
The song’s verses unfold like pages from a remembered night: the tent, the flashlight, the hush of a small village under a vast sky. The child’s excitement is met with mild bewilderment from a friend — a moment that crystallizes the feeling of being other, of discovering that wonder is not a universal instinct. The exchange (“You really know all this?” / “You don’t?”) captures both pride and confusion: the first awareness that knowledge can isolate as much as it illuminates.
Each chorus, formed entirely of star names, functions as both incantation and constellation — a cosmic litany of identity. Spoken, whispered, or sung, these names transcend meaning and become pure sound: language turning into light. They are at once scientific and sacred, a bridge between intellect and emotion.
The bridge, where the child’s flashlight beam finally reaches Alchiba after fifty years, beautifully compresses the concept of time and memory. A fleeting childhood gesture — the wave of a torch — becomes an act of cosmic endurance. What was once play is now physics; what was once innocence has become permanence. The light endures long after the child has grown, a literal and symbolic trace of wonder.
Ultimately, “Stargazer” is not a song about astronomy — it is about belonging and perspective. It asks whether knowledge is a way to connect or a way to stand apart, and whether our private awe under the stars might, in the end, be the truest form of prayer.
4.
“Who Can Say?”
Lyrics
“Who Can Say?”
Inspired by an ancient Daoist Parable
Woke up, my horse ran off again
Neighbor’s eyes say “Oh, poor friend”
But I just sip my morning tea
And say, “Let’s wait and see.”
Next week, he’s back — not one, but two
A wild-eyed mare in buckskin blue
They cheer, “You’ve struck a twist of fate!”
I smile and say, “Too soon to celebrate.”
Who can say what’s good or bad?
Fortune’s wearing masks we’ve never had
Up and down, like tides that play
Maybe yes — or maybe nay
So I just laugh and ride the wave
‘Cause who can say?
Who can say?
My son tried breaking in the mare
The saddle slipped, he flew through air
The town gasped loud: “Oh what a blow!”
I shrug and say, “Too soon to know.”
Then war drums beat across the land
They came for sons with sword in hand
They skipped my boy — the crowd looked thrilled
I said, “Let’s not be too fulfilled.”
Who can say what’s good or bad?
Rain might grow the dreams we never had
Highs and lows, they twist and sway
Maybe yes — or maybe nay
So I just toast the break of day
‘Cause who can say?
Who can say?
Every curse might wear a crown
Every throne could tumble down
A silver lining’s sometimes rust
But rust still glows, if you let it trust
So don’t be quick to call it doom
Don’t cheer too fast inside the bloom
The story’s not done, we’re on page ten
What feels like loss might win again
Who can say what’s good or bad?
Time’s a trickster, sweet and mad
We dance the dark, we kiss the gray
Maybe yes — or maybe nay
I’ll live like life’s a cabaret
‘Cause who can say?
Who can say?
Interpretation
“Who Can Say?”
“Who Can Say?” is a parable wrapped in a pop melody — a meditation on the shifting nature of fortune and the futility of judging life’s events too soon. Inspired by an ancient Taoist story, the song transforms timeless wisdom into lyrical storytelling that feels both intimate and universal.
At its heart, the song challenges the human instinct to label experiences as good or bad. Each verse unfolds a new turn of fate: a lost horse, an unexpected gift, an accident, and finally a narrow escape from war. With every twist, the narrator’s refrain — “Who can say?” — becomes less a question and more a mantra of acceptance. Life, the song suggests, resists our attempts to classify it. What brings joy today might sow sorrow tomorrow, and what feels like tragedy may become a hidden blessing.
Musically and lyrically, the song balances simplicity with philosophy. Everyday images — tea cups, dirt roads, village whispers — frame vast ideas about chance, perspective, and peace of mind. The chorus, bright and memorable, contrasts with the humility of the verses, mirroring how life swings between highs and lows. The bridge, with its enigmatic line “But rust still glows, if you let it trust,” captures the essence of resilience: even what seems worn or broken can carry beauty, if seen with patience.
Ultimately, “Who Can Say?” is not about resignation but about release — the freedom that comes from embracing uncertainty. It invites the listener to stop chasing absolute meaning and instead to ride the wave, to find serenity in the ebb and flow of change. In a world obsessed with control and instant judgment, this song is a gentle act of rebellion — and a reminder that wisdom often sounds a lot like wonder.
5.
“Tie My Laces”
Lyrics
“Tie My Laces”
Inspired by Carlos Castaneda and the teachings of Don Juan Matus
Walking through the canyon light,
Shadows dancing, day to night.
A sudden pause, I kneel down slow,
Tie my laces — winds still blow.
A whisper falls from up above,
A stone like fate, nor hate nor love.
It missed me by a breath or two,
What was chance, and what was true?
And he said, “One day it may not miss,
No warning and no final kiss.
But what you do is all you own —
So tie them laces like a stone.”
Tie my laces with care and grace,
Meet the silence, match the pace.
The world may crumble, skies may fall,
But I will stand and face it all.
In every moment, let me be
A warrior walking consciously.
He looked at me with ancient eyes,
Saw through my doubt and thin disguise.
“No fear of death,” he gently meant,
“Do live each act with pure intent”.
Not every stone can be outrun,
Not every day will see the sun.
But in the smallest act, we find
The echo of an anchored mind.
Tie my laces, breathe the wind,
Own each step, lose and win.
The path may vanish, fade away,
But I will walk it anyway.
In every moment, let me be
A warrior walking consciously.
Interpretation
On Tying Shoelaces
Carlos Castaneda describes in his books an experience he had with his shamanic teacher, Don Juan Matus, while they were traveling on foot through the Mexican wilderness.
One day, Carlos and his benefactor are walking through a ravine. Castaneda notices that one of his shoelaces has come undone and crouches down to tie it.
At that moment, a rock breaks loose from the rim of the ravine and crashes to the ground directly in front of him. If he had not stopped to tie his shoelace, the rock would have hit and killed him.
Castaneda panics, but his benefactor remains calm: “Another time,” he says, “a rock might break loose and hit you precisely because you stopped and didn’t keep walking.”
“So there’s nothing we can do?” asks Castaneda.
“Yes, there is,” replies his benefactor. “Tie our shoelaces with the utmost care.”
Don Juan uses the experience with the falling rock to teach Carlos that a shaman is never inattentive. One cannot avoid death—but one can meet it as a “warrior,” with awareness, grace, and care. He makes it clear that even if death comes in the very next second, one should act with complete dedication and precision until the last moment—even when tying one’s shoelaces.
The essence of this teaching is: We do not choose the circumstances, but we choose our attitude. Even in the face of the inevitable, we should act with mindfulness, dignity, and full presence in every moment.
6.
“Sweet Strawberry Now”
Lyrics
“Sweet Strawberry Now”
Inspired by a Buddhist parable
I was running through the fire, desert winds and empty skies
Chased by shadows, getting closer, I could feel their hungry eyes
Every step a little faster, but there’s nowhere left to go
Then the ground gave way beneath me—
And I started falling slow
Holding on to something fragile, roots in stone and tangled dreams
Above me roared the lion, below me waited screams
And time—it gnawed in circles, black and white in endless spin
But then I saw a glimmer, where the rock had cracked so thin
Oh, sweet strawberry now
Caught between the fear and the fall
While the world tries to break me down
You’re the sweetest taste of it all
Let the end come, let it howl
I’ll savor this bite somehow
Life is burning, fading—wow
But oh… sweet strawberry now
There’s a beauty in the balance, in the peril and the peace
In a world that can’t be mastered, we find moments of release
Yeah, the clock is always ticking, yeah, the ropes will someday fray
But the red flash in the sunlight?
That’s the reason that I stay
When the danger’s all around me, and the silence grows too loud
I won’t wait for some salvation
I’ll just taste what life’s allowed
Oh, sweet strawberry now
Caught between the fear and the fall
While the world tries to break me down
You’re the sweetest taste of it all
Let the end come, let it howl
I’ll savor this bite somehow
Life is burning, fading—wow
But oh… sweet strawberry now
Maybe that’s all that we get
Not forever, just a breath
But in that breath I found the light
I found the why, I found the right
To love, to feel, to be
In this one small eternity
Oh, sweet strawberry now
You’re the reason, you’re the vow
While the storm’s about to devour
I’m alive, I’m alive—in this hour
Let the end come, let it howl
I’ll savor this bite somehow
Life is burning, fading—wow
But oh… sweet strawberry now
Interpretation
The Story of the Strawberry
A woman was walking through a desert. It was hot and the woman was thirsty. After a while, she noticed a lion behind her, following her. The woman walked faster, but the lion kept getting closer. Faster and faster the woman went, but the lion followed her and the distance became shorter and shorter. Finally, the woman ran, and the lion also ran, closing in more and more.
At full speed, the woman reached the edge of a ravine that suddenly dropped vertically before her and stretched left and right with no end in sight. She looked back for the lion, stumbled, and fell over the edge of the ravine.
Halfway down the rocky wall, a bush had taken firm hold; the woman managed to grab it during her fall, got entangled, and hung in the branches. When she looked down, she saw a second lion at the bottom of the ravine. The first one had by now reached the edge of the ravine and was looking down at the woman in the bush.
From a hole in the rocky wall, two mice crawled out and began to gnaw at the roots of the bush.
The woman let her gaze wander over the rock face and noticed not far from her a strawberry that had grown there from a crack. The fruit shone red in the sun.
As far as she could, the woman leaned to the side and managed to reach the strawberry. She carefully picked it, looked at it, smelled it, put it in her mouth, and crushed it with her tongue against her palate.
Oh, what a delicious moment!
The story is an allegory of human life, which is surrounded by dangers and transience.
The first lion represents our karma, which follows and drives us.
The second lion symbolizes the future, death – the inevitable fate of all earthly beings.
The mice (often black and white – night and day) represent the relentlessly passing time.
The bush is fragile life itself.
And the strawberry?
It represents the present moment, the now, which can be enjoyed despite all circumstances. Oh, what a delicious moment this now-moment is – if we can perceive and appreciate it with our full attention.
7.
“A Second of Forever”
Lyrics
“A Second of Forever”
Inspired by the German fairy tale “Das Hirtenbüblein“ (“The Shepherd Boy”)
In a silent land where the wild winds sleep,
Rises a mountain, ancient and deep.
No footsteps echo, no voices cry,
Just the hush of stars in an endless sky.
Once in a century, soft as a sigh,
A little bird comes drifting by.
With feathers like dusk and a heart full of song,
It sharpens its beak, then it’s quickly gone.
And when the mountain’s turned to dust,
Carried off in dreams and rust,
Only then, my love, you’ll see,
A second passed in eternity.
Hush now, darling, close your eyes—
Time is slower than the skies.
No need to run, no need to race,
Forever moves at a gentle pace.
One tiny bird, one timeless flight,
Kisses stone in pale moonlight.
And when the mountain’s turned to dust,
Carried off in dreams and rust,
Only then, my love, you’ll see,
A second passed in eternity.
Sleep, sweet soul, the night is kind—
Leave the ticking clock behind.
The stars don’t hurry, the wind won’t chase,
The bird just knows its secret place.
And while you dream, it’s on its way,
Wearing down the stone, flake by flake.
And when the mountain’s turned to dust,
Carried off in dreams and rust,
Only then, my love, you’ll see,
A second passed in eternity.
Rest now, child, the world will keep—
Forever waits while you’re asleep.
Interpretation
“A Second of Forever” — The Song of Stillness and Infinity
At its heart, “A Second of Forever” is a meditation on time — not as a sequence of ticking moments, but as a vast, breathing presence that hums beneath existence. Inspired by the old Grimm tale “The Shepherd Boy,” the song translates an ancient riddle into a modern lullaby: the image of a tiny bird that comes once every hundred years to sharpen its beak on a mountain, and only when the mountain is gone, a single second of eternity has passed.
The song’s gentle melody and lyrical restraint mirror the patience of that image. Each verse moves slowly, like a century in miniature, whispering about the weight and tenderness of infinity. The mountain stands as a symbol of permanence and endurance — the things in life we believe will never change — while the bird embodies time’s quiet persistence, the soft erosion of all that seems eternal.
Yet the lullaby is not tragic. It is profoundly comforting. By framing eternity as something slow, tender, and cyclical, the song invites peace with transience. The closing lines — “Rest now, child, the world will keep / Forever waits while you’re asleep” — dissolve human anxiety into a deeper stillness. Time, the song suggests, is not our adversary but our cradle.
“A Second of Forever” is both a lullaby and a philosophy. It teaches that even in the smallest gestures — a bird’s flight, a whispered note, a heartbeat before sleep — eternity is quietly at work, polishing the edges of existence, one breath at a time.
