"A Night in Tunisia" (D. Gillepsie)
J Dulva
2021 Cenote Music

A Night In Tunisia

Hey Man

FINGERSTYLE BLUES IN G Op 2

https://open.spotify.com/track/10DcXhF6LN0jE3yLslyU4W?si=f6fac0f3cfa84a5c

first i start jazzy, then funky then reggae jazz and then a house interlude and back to funky reggae jazz :)

Forget Me Not

DOWNLOAD

Forget Me Not (instrumental)

https://open.spotify.com/track/5Fc97Hx8kc3X0XmmHkZMEr?si=17b49b5990564621

This track is a collaboration with MissChiefStudios, a wonderful artist bazed in England. We've been following each others work for years without speaking until one day on soundcloud on the same frequency ^^ This is our first collaboration and i really hope to get some more work done with her. Very talented humble and hidden artist that deserves applauses. Here is her profile link: 

https://soundcloud.com/misschiefstudios


Thank you!

Deep Above

Deep Above (MissChiefStudios)(instrumental)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Di7PqtDYOaE
https://myckalmarcovic.bandcamp.com/track/le-souper-loup

Texte et musique : Myckaël Marcovic
Chant : Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel
Lyrics and music : Myckaêl Marcovic
Vocals : Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel

Translation above

UN SOUPER LOUPÉ

C’était une froide nuit d’hiver,
Un loup sortait de sa tanière,
Quand il vit trois petits cochons
Qui s’enfuirent vers leur maison.

Quand ils arrivent à leur chaumière,
Les cochons se barricadèrent
Le loup hurla, frappa, cogna
Mais à la fin, il s’essouffla.

Refrain :
Ouh ! ouh ! méchant loup
Même si tu aimes le jambon,
Ouh ! ouh ! méchant loup
Tu n’auras pas les p’tits cochons !

Puis soudain sur le toit, des pas.
Y a quelqu’un dans la cheminée
Qui dans la marmite tomba,
Et l’invité est prisonnier.

Les cochons se mettent à danser
En attendant le bon souper.
Pendant que l’invité cuisait,
Les petits cochons rigolaient.
(refrain)

En ouvrant enfin le couvercle
Quelques cadeaux flottaient sur l’eau
Et puis deux bottes, et le chapeau
Du Père-Noël qu’on vient de perdre !

Les pauvres rennes à la fenêtre
Se d’mandaient où était leur maître
Les p’tits cochons pleuraient aussi
C’est pas gentil, mais c’est ainsi !

Refrain :
Ouh ! ouh ! méchant loup
On n’fait plus partie des gens bons
Ouh ! ouh ! méchant loup
Ils vont nous traiter d’cornichons !

Depuis ce jour on ne voit plus
Que de faux Père-Noël partout.
Et ceux qui offrent des joujoux
Sont des remplaçants, bien entendu !
(dernier refrain) (bis)

Paroles et musique :
Myckaël Marcovic, 06/09/07

A MISSED DINNER

It was a cold winter's night,
A wolf was coming out of his den,
When he saw three little pigs
Who fled to their home.

When they arrived at their cottage,
The pigs barricaded themselves
The wolf howled, kicked and pounded
But in the end, he ran out of steam.

Refrain:
Ouh! ouh! bad wolf
Even if you like ham,
Ouh ! ouh ! bad wolf
You won't get the little pigs!

Then suddenly, on the roof, footsteps.
There's someone in the chimney
Who fell into the pot,
And the guest is a prisoner.

The pigs start dancing
Waiting for the right supper.
While the guest was cooking,
The little pigs laughed.
(refrain)

Opening the lid at last
A few presents floated on the water
And then two boots, and the hat
Of the Santa we just lost!

The poor reindeer at the window
Wondering where their master was
The little piggies cried too
It's not nice, but that's how it is!

Refrain :
Ouh! ouh! bad wolf
We're no longer good people
Ouh ! ouh ! bad wolf
They'll call us pickles!

Since that day we've seen
Fake Santa Claus everywhere.
And those who give toys
Are substitutes, of course!
(last chorus) (encore)

Lyrics and music :
Myckaël Marcovic, 06/09/07

Le souper loupé (feat. Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel)

Wandering through this dusty road
Tumbleweed rolls wild and free

Wandering through this dusty road
Tumbleweed rolls wild and free
The winds of fate, they guide our stride
To places where hearts can beat as one

Across the fields, across the sand
Tumbleweed rolls wild and free
It’s like a dance, we sway and spin
In every turn, we meet our fate

As tumbleweeds roll wild and free
They spread their seeds for all to see
In every turn, a chance to grow

From distant lands, we come to meet
Two wanderers on paths so fleet
Chance encounters shape our days
Like tumbleweeds in a boundless maze

As tumbleweeds roll wild and free
They spread their seeds for all to see
In every turn, a chance to grow

Rolling through the desert night
Stars above, our guiding light
The randomness that steers our feet
In life’s great dance, our souls repeat
(In life’s great dance, our souls repeat)

As tumbleweeds roll wild and free
They spread their seeds for all to see
In every turn, a chance to grow

As tumbleweeds roll wild and free
They spread their seeds for all to see
In every turn (Wandering)
A chance to grow (Through this dusty road)
In every turn (Wandering)
A chance to grow (Through this dusty road)
In every turn, a chance to grow

Tumbleweed

improvisation music for the acoustic bass guitar 

Open m

A little something I made out of Twitter/X Conversations and a companion for Foul-Mouthed Parrot regarding the present situation in the UK.

Lyrics:

Not much could be any clearer
I'm surrounded by a bunch of retards
Because i'm in a house of mirrors

It's plain to anybody who reads
/bin/true is the Sun Tzu
Of POSIX commands
It does nothing and succeeds

Captain Kirk is suave and debonair
I was there the day he limped the curl in his hair
I'd follow him to hell and back
But i wish he'd just stop going there

Muad'Dib is a Fremen Reepicheep
A man once dug a legal hole too deep
By cloning a massive succulent sheep
He was unjustly levied massive fines
For transporting testicles across state lines

I applied to be the priestess's familiar
At the ketamine pentagram
Having been sumptuously prepared
I sallied forth and declared
I've gone for the gendarmerie madame

She invitingly said, come as you are
But be mindful that nobody likes reverse centaur

The hiring manager with necklace impearled 
Said lets get down to brass tacks
We need the kind of guy 
Who shows up uninvited to the underworld
And then complains to Hades about the lack of snacks

I told her that when I seriously reflect on
How irritating inconsistency can be
I measure out my net positive effect to 
About as useful as someone gold-plating a tree
She said you'll do fine, you'll soon-enough see

Assume spherical cows are rational actors
And a number of other simplifying factors

During these very odd days of potential strife 
I found myself questioning
Is a nut pick generally
A Southern grandma's swiss army knife
A Venn circle diagram of this phrase
Gets us into a weird area
As the coppers rode the tram to the site of the blaze
Perhaps it's all just a cultural hysteria

Middle-tier’s a mirage 
Luxury floats, the bottom scrapes, and the middle gets juiced
It does little good to ape Nigel Farage
More direct methods are needed when hell is loosed

The protesters' tract had on its cover
"Intellectual hipsterism for compulsive contrarians."
And our boys had begun to have read they discovered
Its contents were spastically argumentarian
And tended to passively malign
By preferring von Neumann to Einstein

A sign on the road said
This is the locus of paranoia
There's something uniquely evil about a gas pump that plays ads twenty-four-seven
The fellows who devised that aren't going to heaven
Their contraption felt about as cheerful as the Garroted Man by Goya

Every generation thinks they invented sex 
And utterly futile arbitrary political violence
A nasty looking crowd was rattling the fence
At the edge of the beastly infotainment complex

When all roads are crooked, none are
But these fellows in the middle of the street were taking it too far
Or as they say in England, Allahu Akbar
They were out this fine morning to protest
In support of the man who'd genetically engineered the best
Mutton from Brighton to Brest

I wanted to jump in and attack the throng
But being too early is the same as being wrong

By following the advice of my uniformed cute little bird
I directed to circle the wagons and shoot inward

She screechingly directed the troops 
But they fell short of breaching the barrier
Ask a woman their pronouns
If you don't like their fashion sense
They'll coldly try harder if not merrier

A struggling lunatic raved out clear
If you need some cringe shock therapy, I'm here for you bro
As the lieutenant drew herself up like a pro
Her assailant exclaimed
Where'd her tits go
She fired back Sir, you are in love with a brassiere.

We gradually defeated this truculent horde 
Only to subsequently find
Cassowaries on our left, kangaroos on our right
And the Angel of Death behind

Captain Planet he's our hero
Gonna take the TFR to zero
And after the few have undertaken to bury our bones
They'll finally speak truth about the Georgia Guidestones

My sense of humor, bleak though it be
Saw me through the stress of that misery
Comes meus fuit in illo miserrimo tempore

ŠeššEšrā

Or As They Say In England, Allahu Akbahr (عام سَعيد Version)

Buy on Beatport

This is how I feel. As if I don't matter at all, just struggling to create meaning in a chilly, sad world. 

I Am Human Garbage Too

This alternative rock track is the prelude to a new suite called Secrets of the Heart.

Secrets of the Heart

Secrets of the Heart Prelude

Just another old one man band unsigned musician who sings and plays a little guitar, bass & drums and fools around on the piano; expert in writing songs that usually disappear with the wind, and in composing musical flops.  Folks say that I´m a composer, but I think they´re wrong: I just download the music I hear and feel in the atmosphere and give it back to the people. I don´t do a living from music; I ´m an attorney and horse breeder who gets noisy when I download the music I hear and feel.Thanks for checking out my page and listening the noise I´ve been doing for the past 50 and so years when I get musical.  I´m based in Bogotá, Colombia, and always open to do collabs.

FINGERSTYLE BLUES IN G Op 2

ALFONSO LLORENTE SARDI