Don't worry dear friend, you will find time for sleep.

I was running through a bad dream, now I'm waking up.

Tonight I had trouble sleeping, and so I listened to some songs by Lady Lamb the Beekeeper. The first track to come on was "Almond Colored Sheets", followed by her cover of "These Days".

The third track was "The Nothing". This song is familiar to most as the rap stuck in the middle of "Pennylicks" (We will crane our necks...). However, the version I was listening to was a particularly unique take recorded live at One Longfellow Square. On the recording, Aly introduces the song as follows:

"This next song is called "The Nothing". This is usually in rap form with some percussion. I slowed it down just a tiny bit."

Accompanying herself only on banjo, Aly then proceeds to translate her rhymes into a hopeful and honest plea to face the darkness and challenges of life without fear.

Now there is something
Like a needle in our ears
But we are not fearful
This is, you know, This is the way that it is
This is the only way
You must harness that pain
Just rip it out
Toss it away. Toss it away.
You'll amount to something
You won't wash away
If you just get out of bed
If use your legs
Whether you choose to leave
Whether you choose to stay

Listening to this song in bed, soft tears started to run from my eyes. And when that first tear rolled down my cheek, I remembered that I had been at this performance, and I had cried then, too.

It was the first show that Aly played following the departure of TJ from the band. It was like no Lady Lamb show I had seen before or since. It was clear that Aly still carried the weight and pain of the band's separation, but what I most remember from that performance was her incredible courage.

Her songs were not only intensely emotional, but also physically daunting - on many songs she looped multiple instruments on top of each, or literally stretched her body across the stage to play a keyboard part while stomping a floor tom. The final song found her bashing on cymbals while screaming of a plane crash over Guatemala.

In short, she went for it. Her lyrics are poetry, her music is magic, and her voice sounds touched by the divine, but what I admire most in Aly is her fearlessness. People stop to listen to Lady Lamb, because they can tell she is showing the world her heart. It's powerful enough to start making you feel braver yourself.

I will miss Aly while she is away from Maine, but I know she is guided by her courage. And I hope everywhere she goes, she will leave a legacy that inspires people to believe in their talents and pursue their own best ambitions. I know that she has left that legacy here. But like all beautiful women, she can't help but leave you a little brokenhearted when she goes.

Goodnight, my friends.