It is the universal language that connects people across borders and beliefs. Music carries the stories of hope, healing, and humanity that define our mission, reminding the world that peace begins not in silence, but in song.
Debut Album: We Dance Again
Album Statement from Lynn Scheid
For The Peace Aid Foundation – We Dance Again
This album was born from years spent in places where silence meant survival and music meant hope. I have stood in cities reduced to rubble, in villages emptied by fear, and in streets where the air carried grief. Yet in every one of those places, someone always found a way to sing. We Dance Again is my tribute to that strength, to the courage of people who find rhythm in the ruins and light in the darkest corners of the world.
These songs came from what I witnessed while working in war and conflict zones, fragile moments of peace. I wrote them for the mothers who wait, the children who learn to laugh again, and the men and women who rebuild their lives from dust and memory. I wrote them for everyone who still believes that compassion can heal what cruelty destroys. Every melody carries a piece of the people who taught me that love is stronger than fear.
I am deeply grateful to every musician, singer, and engineer who gave their time and their talent to this project without asking for anything in return. They did it for peace, for humanity, and for the belief that music can still bring people together when words fail. Their generosity turned these songs into something larger than I could ever create alone.
To all of you who played, sang, or listened, thank you. You gave your hearts freely and reminded me that peace begins with the simplest act of kindness. This album is a gift from all of us to anyone who still believes that the world can be healed through the sound of music and the power of love.
You can find the debut album We Dance Again by Lynn Scheid, featuring the voice of Sally James, on all major streaming platforms through DistroKid, including Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, YouTube Music, Pandora, Deezer, and iHeartRadio.
Search for “Lynn Scheid – We Dance Again” on your preferred platform to listen, share, and support The Peace Aid Foundation’s message of unity and healing through music.
Track Stories
I wrote When It Stops after standing in streets that had only just fallen quiet. Hours earlier, there had been gunfire and shouting. Then came a silence that felt heavier than the noise. I watched children playing beside burned walls and mothers washing clothes where tanks had rolled through. That quiet courage stayed with me. The song is about that moment after destruction when people start to breathe again and decide to keep living. It asks whether we can still hear one another when the fighting ends and whether love can outlast the noise we create.
I have carried the faces of people lost to war all my life. Reporters, villagers, friends, and strangers. Some died doing their jobs, others just lived in the wrong place at the wrong time. In Bosnia and Jerusalem, I watched families holding photographs as if they were prayers. Those We Remember was written for them. It is not a sad song, but one filled with quiet strength. It reminds me that memory itself can be an act of love. We honor the lost not only by mourning but by remembering them as part of who we still are.
This song came from moments when I heard people singing in places that had every reason to be silent. In refugee camps, in ruined churches, in streets covered with dust, people still sang. The melody may have changed from one country to another, but the meaning was always the same. Music was the language that never needed translation. One Voice is about that power. It is a reminder that we are all connected, no matter how divided we may seem. When people sing together, the walls disappear, and for a few minutes, the world feels whole again.
I remember walking through cities that had been bombed beyond recognition. Everything was broken, yet I could smell bread baking somewhere nearby. That smell was the sound of life coming back. Rise Again was written for the people who rebuild before the ashes are cold. I saw women sweeping the steps of burned churches, children laughing where houses once stood. This song is their story. It is not about victory, but endurance. It says that no matter how many times we fall, there is something inside us that keeps standing up and trying again.
Everywhere I have worked, there comes a moment when music returns. Someone finds a drum, someone starts to sing, and suddenly there is laughter again. I have seen this in the Balkans, in Central Africa, in the Middle East. People dance, not because the pain is gone, but because they are still alive. We Dance Again is about that moment. It is about joy as survival and rhythm as faith. It closes the album because it represents everything I have learned from the people I met. Even after loss, we still find a way to move together.
One morning, not far from Vase Miskina Street, a man in a tuxedo appeared among the ruins carrying a cello. His name was Vedran Smailović, a musician from the Sarajevo Opera. Just days earlier, a mortar shell had exploded in that very street, killing twenty-two civilians waiting in line for bread. Smailović returned to the site every day for twenty-two days, one for each person who had died, and played Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor amid the rubble and sniper fire.
I remember the sound of his cello echoing through the empty streets, a single, fragile melody rising above the noise of war. For a few moments, the city stopped. Soldiers lowered their weapons. People listened. It was as if the music had created a small pocket of sanity in the middle of madness.
That moment taught me something I have carried through every story and every country since. Music cannot end a siege, but it can break its rhythm. It can interrupt hatred long enough for people to feel human again. It creates a space where words can return, where dialogue can begin, where understanding can take root.
We do not believe that music alone can stop a war, but we do believe it can create the silence in which peace becomes possible. What I witnessed in Sarajevo was not simply courage. It was proof that beauty can exist even when everything else is falling apart, and that sometimes one song is enough to remind the world of what it means to be alive.
