heal the world .mp3 
2009-07-15 - extension: mp3 - size: 5 MB
heal the world
Hosted on: rapidshare.com
heal the world .mp3 2009-07-03 - extension: mp3 - size: 5 MB
heal the world
Hosted on: rapidshare.com
heal the world .mp3 2009-07-15 - extension: mp3 - size: 5 MB
heal the world
Hosted on: rapidshare.com
Video results for: heal the world mp3More results from video 
Break the Horizon - Amnesty International Song www.myspace.com/jimmiedivine
This song is written by Andreas Günzing (a young german author) (More) www.myspace.com/jimmiedivine
This song is written by Andreas Günzing (a young german author) for amnesty international, the welfare group. AI stands up for Human Rights all over the world and is trying to free children from undeveloped countries in which they are abused to act as soldiers and have to kill other human beings.
You can download the song for free on www.mp3.de/jimmiedivine ... please download it and spread it, its for a good cause!
Break the Horizon (translated version)
I open my eyes and the sun is awakening
I see the light, but I can't escape the thunder of the night
This scream from a thousand throats like a desperate prayer,
Which is silenced to a fearful plead for taking the misery away
That nobody wants to see -- the horizon turned into an image
Behind it rages the pain, but right here it remains quiet
Because behind our horizon arise the few in power,
The guardians of corruption, who despise the weak
By spinning webs of crime around their speeches of lies
And the people are forced to accept their fate
Just like Akbar Ganji, journalist from Iran,
Who fought for a freedom they would never grant him,
Because freedom of speech means potential resistance
Against a government that burns in words like in gasoline
So instead, they burned Ganjis sun and banned all hope into exile
By sending him away for six years of jail
And tonight they are silently dying
Our sleep is the blood where they lie in
And I know the sun won't be arising
Until we open our eyes and break the horizon
Break the horizon and you'll see what it means,
When the law tears the heart of justice to pieces
And the pain tears you apart, when your loved ones are gone
'Cause in his dungeon Ganji couldn't find love at all
Where's the smile of his kids and the picture of his wife
Inside this grey, darkened sky of a winter so quiet
Among mould and dust his hands grab the grille
Of his small window as the walls start to shake
While a crying merciless thunderstorm destroys what he build up
With the words that noone will listen to anymore
But they won't break him, even if he fights for years
He knows that his conviction will exult in the end
Even if he dies, because of torture or hunger strike
About which he writes to his wife in his darkest hours
And she cries, when she reads: My dear, forgive me. I'm
Caught in this cage to find freedom... I love you
Chorus
A hazy spark in the horizon, where the few armies
Of the never surrendering ones arise to fight against the falling night
To gain change and they wait for our sign
To tear the darkness apart, it's called: Break the horizon!
Because they need our sun, when their skies are frozen
And this star will shine on until the lat voice dies
Our light has to reach them, because the governments
Are getting away with murder, so: Break the horizon!
They want our blind ignorance, but we don't tolerate their actions
Or this hierarchy, which strangles the voice of freedom
So we need to unite our voices to heal those wounds
That our silence caused, scream: Break the horizon!
When I was just a kid I already had that dream
To the stars when I looked into the people's eyes
So overcome yourself until the last walls are smashed
Run to the end of the world and you'll realize when you fall
That every human being holds the fate of humanity in his hands
Chorus (Less)
To the New Electorate Episode XI of "Election '08," a series of spoken word works by Mike Varley covering (More) Episode XI of "Election '08," a series of spoken word works by Mike Varley covering the 2008 campaign. A new entry every Sunday with free mp3 downloads at mikevarley.com.
To The New Electorate
"For your consideration," he said in a scholarly tone, "I would like to submit an anthem of understanding stirred by the memory of Carlo, the undeniable mother lover in whose line art aspires. His artifacts of romance are revered in a world where philosophers test aesthetics in second-hand dress, where DIY is darling indy yearning, where budding hearing loss is a way of life, where the Internet is a junkie's throat itch, where we work knowing it's not forever, hoping it's not forever, saying it's not forever in a world short of supporters, where the consciousness needs a leader who stands tall to the thresher, where 75,000 is Portland's pledge, where 75,000 is nothing."
"Where the Earth moans and people perspire, where hired armies salute the flag in accordance with their contract, where faith based movements are making a comeback, for all the wrong reasons, in all the wrong places. Where the greatest heartache remaining is the rift between the simple and the striving -- where the lines have been drawn with this purpose in mind. Where inevitability is met at the drawbridge with pitchforks and books of flaming logic puzzles, where false authority works far too well, where civil rights percolations must boil or spoil, where the wooden Wheel of Destiny is guarded by shadows alone, their darkness the rite of all passages."
"And say we should decide," he said from the crowd's center, "that apathy is the blonde alternative? And what if objectivity is the slow descent to compliance? What then? Then the end of peace, one more Middle East notch, then a Korea too and Havana while we're at it and Darfur for the hell of it and Argentina for their ignorance and Brazil for the rain forests and China cause they're different and Switzerland because what sense is it, a neutral location in a star-spangled atlas? You may think I speak in fables, but they relate through epics, and talking foxes seems more real than gleaming Trojan man-pecs. Their mandate lies on the table gift wrapped in anonymity, the human face recently judged a sign of appeasement. It's hardly surprising he gave up his golfing when one considers his divots."
"I had a premonition," he said as they grabbed his arms, "of a camera trained on a camera trained on a biker's mirrored monocle, reversing its vision and recording a world where Orwell became a mechanic. I saw ten thousand books on how to make art with nobody laughing or blushing. I saw farm-caged men with slippers on present for passing strangers. I saw the end of the world on an old roll of ticker taped in the shape of a Mobius strip. I saw women robbed of decency, men stripped of courage and children devoid of compassion."
"But all this was seen," he said through the window, "through the fisheye of Diligence Dome. So to the east I looked and saw...smiling faces, trained in ways to heal a stubborn world. And you are those faces and I am your framer, 'cause context is all we all need."
Then the car turned the corner from Washington Square and I couldn't make out anymore. (Less)
Michael Jackson - Instrumental Version - Heal The World short .mp3 2009-12-24 - extension: mp3 - size: 2 MB
Michael Jackson - Instrumental Version - Heal The World short
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