Son of man, you cannot say, or guess, for you know only a heap of broken images, where the sun beats, and the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, and the dry stone no sound of water. Only there is shadow under this red rock (come in under the shadow of this red rock), and I will show you something different from either your shadow at morning striding behind you or your shadow at evening rising to meet you; I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
I was really having a hard time with color balance where Martel is in front of the wooden cabinet. I'll have to revisit that, I think.
After all that... This song reminds me of my mom - this one specifically, not Lauryn Hill or Roberta Flack. (and while I'm still on dolls, I'll bet Martel listens to and sings along with this type of music when there's no one else around.)