His voice is liquid, drowning me then rescuing me from the sheer weight of a burdensome life that can no longer be borne.
Somehow, a singularly caressing envelope of grace shields me from total obliteration, his ethereal utterance an unknown but strangely welcome entity.
What power lures me outside myself into a realm within my reality but, nonetheless, beyond it? It is sonority that at once crushes me yet, alternately, cradles me tenderly inside delicate tracery of angel song.
I beg - oh, how I beg - to be released from this aural tidal wave of unquantifiable beauty.
His music is that of other worlds; it holds me in its protective but unrelinquishing embrace. I equivocate, but it is demurral of little account for I cave and become captive . . . willingly.