Where we come from, our history lies in stories, that great oral tradition, passed from one generation to another. These stories stack up like stones on an altar. Some of these altars bloodstained things, some of them tributes to a great victory. Some of them like cracked signposts to the prodigal. And some of them are Psalms. Journeys tied up in stanzas, travelling verses from despair to hope, doubt to faith. The song of Miriam on the other side. Where we come from, our stories make their way to our songs. We could call them worship music, but they're so much more. They are our triumphs, our wounds, our hallelujahs, our pillars of smoke and fire. ...and we're passing them on to you.