Sicilian Fantasia

[Intro] (Wordless bel canto vocalise, weaving like olive branches in Sicilian wind) [Verse 1] Sun bleeds gold on Mount Etna’s brow Olive groves hum where the old donkeys bow Fisherman’s net drags the Tyrrhenian’s sighs Salt on his skin, where the sea and sky collide [Chorus] Sicilian Fantasia, oh the mandolins cry Scent of jasmine clings to the lullaby Semi-chorus swells like the tide’s own breath Bel canto soars, where the old world meets death [Verse 2] Grandma’s hands knead the cannoli’s sweet heart Church bells toll where the martyrs depart Orange blossoms fall on the cobblestone square A gypsy’s guitar hangs in the market’s cold air [Chorus] Sicilian Fantasia, oh the mandolins cry Scent of jasmine clings to the lullaby Semi-chorus swells like the tide’s own breath Bel canto soars, where the old world meets death [Bridge] Volcano sleeps, but her fire still burns In the songs we sing, in the lessons we learn Semi-chorus rises, a prayer unconfined Bel canto carries the soul of this land [Outro] (Wordless bel canto fade, like sun dipping behind the island’s edge)