Three Little Birds

From Exodus, and about as close to a guaranteed mood-fix as I own. It’s almost too simple to write about — a few chords, a chorus everyone on earth already knows — but simple is the achievement here, not the shortcut. The reassurance only works because nothing gets in the way of it.

I keep it on the shelf as an antidote. Whatever the rest of the wing is brooding about, this is the record that opens a window. Three little birds, one small promise, and somehow it holds.