LITTLE SONG - MEO FUSCIUNI

A little song .

"Man's loneliness passes through a bouquet of roses clutched in his hands, withered by the time that has passed through them. For whom are these roses? On the table a cup of coffee and between the fingers of the hand a cigarette".
The Cycle of Metamorphosis

Little Song has brought me face to face with my loneliness as a man, the metamorphosis through a state of consciousness, the human condition.

To stop is necessary, to reflect is fundamental to my continuation, to understand that nothingness is everything and that every fragment of this work spent with myself, tells...
Loneliness is in my life, it's a component that lives with my breath, but I didn't always know how to speak to it. I have now, thanks to this passage, to the physical change of the past, a new place where I can close myself, where I can hide, where I can listen to the sound of perfume. The previous state of oblivion has given way to a world of memories, like a sudden landslide. I'm still there, in a small room, waiting. Outside, time passes, seasons pass, people pass. Umbrellas fly in the court of silence. I wrote some time ago: "the metamorphosis that we undergo is in the path that we take. We seek, at the bottom, in the darkness, in the cave of life, and there we feel the change, the metamorphosis of our own".
The personal loneliness of man in the face of time, space, the things around us that change.

Composition: coffee, rose, tobacco 

[The little song was conceived, created and arranged by listening to the albums Murder Ballads and Skeleton Tree by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.]