“If you really want to be famous, change your name to Sky Bravo.” He looked me dead in the eye as he sat up and grabbed my arm, his seriousness taking me aback. The whole scene really. His eyes a bit cold. His large and ever-commanding frame, frailed by time. He was on his deathbed and we both knew it. There were times when we didn’t know what to do - when I didn’t know what to do - except sit. Except think that a young man ought to be near his grandfather during his final days on earth. He was not a vulnerable man, Paw Paw. Charming, yes, a smile that could melt your heart or bend your will *just so* whether you were part of the family or had just met. But vulnerable, no. So when he looked at me - as he broke the silence that we had been sitting in for hours that turned into days that turned into weeks that turned into the passing of a generation - when he looked at me and broke that silence - to tell me a quip that crossed his mind or why he thought Nicholas Cage was great in Raising Arizona - every bit of small talk was like - have i spent my whole life really not getting to know you? not asking a single question beyond what i could see? and when he broke the silence… “I coulda been a singer.” Stunned, having been lost in my own world, contemplating the silence and sitting and sitting and - stunned. “But you were, Paw Paw, you *are*.” My heart careful not to place his life in the past tense. “You have a gold medal in singing - in chorus competition - the barbershop society - a gold medal -“ my voice raising in pitch as my heartbeat quickened, pleading to the moment, “the quartets - your quartet - the spellbinders - you were a singer, you ARE - “ “No.” He interrupted deeply, but kindly. Stolidly, with his full self, he spoke again. “Like Sinatra.” So matter-of-fact. He lay back - his strong-broad-frail shoulders lay back as the life he imagined flashed before my eyes - the crowds lost in ecstasy swaying in unison, the dancing lights reflecting through the sweat dripping from the brows of the great entertainer, the bathed in gold, the showing up to play your role, the diamonds, the sparkling eyes, the grit and glamour of a public life. Once more from the silence: “If you really want to be famous, change your name to Sky Bravo.” He looked me dead in the eye as he sat up and grabbed my arm, his seriousness taking me aback. The whole scene really. His eyes a bit cold. His large and ever-commanding frame, frailed by time. He was on his deathbed and we both knew it. ----- This is an executioner's song. It's about a man taking a look back at his life and sayin, "What do you see?" ------ 1+1=1, Sky ------ CREDITS "Sent by the Man" Performed By Sky Bravo and The Damn Fanatics (Feat Quin) Vocals & Guitar : Sky Bravo Vocals : Allison Quin Keys : Matt Grandy Drums and Percussion : Chris Cookies Kelly Recorded at Hyde Street Studios in San Francisco, CA Engineer EG Reed Producer Sky Bravo Mastering by Piper Payne (Clinical Genius), Infrasonic Sounds / Neato Mastering Words and Music by Sky Bravo Vinyl Production by Physical Music Products Album Art "Eternal Tom Tom" by Sky Bravo All Rights Reserved, Netheryonder Records 2023.