this is underated asf man this is so good

this really sounds a lot like dgd tbh. loved it, its great!

this shit sum heat love the solo in front 🎸

Awesome track, we need more rock like this nowadays!

I loved everything that was going on what an adventure haha! You are incredible at guitar!

Buy it on BandCamp https://hurdygurdymen.bandcamp.com/track/ruby-monday-good-enough

Ruby Monday (Good Enough)

She was never good enough, for all the roles they handed out in life
She waited oh so patiently, for someone who could finally see her pain

But the author never showed up in her land, at least in no way she could understand
understand for her life

She stood upon her pedestal, eating more though feeling full inside
Confusion is the final state, for all the love we confiscate with lies

And she could never ever turn the page, from years of mother’s sycophantic rage
all the rage she held inside

And the tranquilizers never did the trick, they always left her feeling somewhat sick,
sickened and alone


Friends would call with their advice, of what to do to make things right and new
But they hadn’t lived through what they spoke, their words were simply borrowed quotes and views

And their answers could never quite withstand, all the questions which a heart demands,
 a heart demands to know

Take a stroll along the shore of stillborn lives and metaphors unseen
There you’ll find a horror show of drowning souls that couldn’t let go and be

And they never ever tire of their hands, of building pretty castles in the sand,
for eternity

photo by Sydney Sims

Ruby Monday (Good Enough)

◉ Follow Magdalena Meisel:
@magdalenameisel

Pod Papugami | Cover version

◉YouTube
https://youtu.be/lgsJsnpQVvo

lyrics : Beneath the Parrots

There's a broadly nickel-plated bar beneath the parrots
The heat is shining like with a little yellow paper flag above the little glasses
The colorful sweetness is here in the glass in front of the girls
They would like to twitter and swing together with the little parrots
 
(Refrain:)
On their airy swings
On the parquet floors and on bridges
According to the colors of their hair, their dresses
And according to their height
 
A mirror is hanging beneath the parrots, in which everyone has
A bridge with Chinese lanterns, a promenade to the white day
 
(Refrain)
 
Beneath the parrots, even when there's no music
Beneath the parrots, the wind is blowing into colorful shells
 
The wind is blowing into colorful shells
The wind is blowing into colorful shells!

Vocal : Magdalena Meisel

Songwriter(s)Bogusław Choiński , Jan Gałkowski
Composer(s) Mateusz Święcicki
Composer(s) Czesław Niemen

Pod Papugami

* jus'matte,holly ~ livin' the dream ////
@lonewitch killin'  the beat

livin' the dream // (prod. lonewitch)

Evergreen Nigerian Praise & Worship

Nagode Yesu

Jaime Commercial Request Rough Draft

Please see the video at: https://youtu.be/MJrYw58z3Q4
The UN's Panel on Climate Change, August 2021 states; 
“It is unequivocal that humans are warming the planet. The warming has made changes to our planet that are irreversible on timescales of centuries.
The oceans will warm. Glaciers will melt. For much of this, there is no going back.”
Scientists say a catastrophe can be avoided if the world acts fast.
                 There is no time for delay and no room for excuses.
                             This is a “Code Red” for humanity.

Written and performed by Kluane Takhini
Featuring James Hemphill on trumpet.

Available on all streaming services.

Code Red

Euro Gayed Up Bing Bong Game Show

I wrote this song 8 years ago, inspired by Thomas Friedman's 'The future is green'. Even now, when we talk about climate change and the evidence keeps growing and growing, a lot of people are mentally still in the dessert. 

[Rough translation]
THE PROPHET AND THE CARAVAN

He would like to save his people, the thoughtful prophet
From the addiction to oil, the black gold of the planet
From the untimely consequences, which can be devastating
But his words find little resonance with the people in the desert

They party until night
Go hunting in the morning
His voice is not being heard
The caravan moves on

Who’s calling: the future is green
Who’s calling: the future is green

He wants his people to understand, to show the connections
Between the oil and the power of many criminal regimes
Between a warming earth and the hell that it can be
but his words finds little resonance with the people in the desert

They party until the night
Go hunting in the morning
His voice is not being heard
The caravan moves on

Who’s calling: the future is green
Who’s calling: the future is green

Once his words will grow into a choir
And people dare to think big
The dream of the prophet, the rose of Jericho

They party until the night
Go hunting in the morning
His voice is not being heard
The caravan moves on

Who’s calling: the future is green
Who’s calling: the future is green

Sax solo played by Dave McKeown
Drums played by Matt Snowden.

DE PROFEET EN DE KARAVAAN (with Dave McKeown)

While I was finishing this song, two people completely unrelated to each other and without prompting commented how AnsonianThunder seems to be influenced by Frank Zappa.  

In honor of this synchronicity, I decided to name this song after the greatest line of prose ever written. “He sniffed the reeking buns of angels” is a line from Zappa’s “Broken Hearts are for Assholes”. A song that is not only a timeless story and tear-jerker about a demented crossdresser named Sir Richard Pump-A-Loaf, but also a polemic to all pussy-ass bitches who have and will incarnate throughout the time and space we as fellow humans all share. 

I leave you with this. In these trying times, do not forget the sentiments espoused by Zappa in “Broken Hearts are for Assholes”. Go forth and “Ram it, Ram it, Ram it in the Poop Chute. Cornhole.”

The Reeking Buns of Angels

Virgins sometimes need to be sacrificed for the good of the people. I sacrificed 3 hoping to influence the 2020 election, in fact.

The Sacrificing Of The Virgins To The War Gods

A Machine Elf Departs Its 11nth Dimensional Existence. Its Comrades Sing in Mourning.

AnsonianThunder is not a man but is a force of nature. It incarnated in 3rd-dimensional time-space reality with one mission. To lay down the sickest, most vicious and sadistic guitar lines possible. 

AnsonianThunder pulls guitar lines straight from the hoary and timeless nether regions of the human soul. When it lays its hand on the fretboard, notes sound with the power and fury of 10,000 big-legged women twerking in unison. 

It is interested in only two things. Tits and the acquisition of more tits.

The Reeking Buns of Angels

AnsonianThunder

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