Words and music written by Bartley Charles Mastin
Performance by Bartley Charles Mastin
Copyright 2025 All Rights Reserved

Lyrics:
It's just a dream
Don't worry about a thing
Don't worry about a thing
It's just a dream

They're turning green
The leaves are turning green
And it will soon be spring
Don't worry about a thing

Round and round we go

Stay a while 
Let me see you smile
Let me see you smile
Stay a while

Round and round we go
Round and round we go
Round and round we go

Stay A While

there was no whey

By My Window

"May every sunrise hold more promise and every sunset more peace." ✌️

Mastering by @bahram-dashtii 🙏

Here comes the sun

v1:  in the dark night, does it feels right, when there's no light.

       in the dark night, does it feel right, when there's no light.

chorus:  she is the queen of shadows, living in the dark.
              she is the queen of shadows, don' let her steal your heart,
                                                                                                                     
v2:  can you feel the fear, as she draws near, you wont hear.

        can you feel the fear, as she draws near, you wont hear.

v3:  in the darkest hour, she has the power, to devour.

in the darkest hour, she has the power, to devour,

v4:   can you feel the fire, her desire, your funeral pyre.

        can you feel the fire, her desire, your funeral pyre.

She is the queen of shadows.

Sunset

Stephen Watkins -electric guitar/Sitar/tabla/Sound engineer(mix and master) @texmex-shaman
Mark j Brewer-Bass guitar
jeff gardiner acoustic guitar/lyrics/vocals/artwork(Edgar the Cat)

Purgatory path by j. gardiner


there's really nothing left to say
but i'm going to say it anyway
thought i heard a whisper of the truth
but it didn't matter like i thought i might

Could have been an echo or the humming of a sharpened blade of steel
sliding in the rails of Revolution, the hounds are on the loose, they're on the trail.
The inhabitants are stark raving mad, this is documented well-

Fallen back to when the Radio played Paradise
falling into you, falling into you, i can't stop,i can't stop
i can't stop falling down the rabbit hole of passionate replys
i didn't even know, i didn't even know
that i was broken
till i found some bits of me, lying on the sacred ground in a dusty field, in a fever dream
just this side of town...  every time he turns around,he doesn't even know what he is feeling disconnected from
he only finds that he is further down the purgatory path
still hoping for some Reverie
even though it's no longer free
but just this Now in the evening's quiet Twilight
all concerns appear as superficial, like she said,"the more i learn, the less i know" and i concur--

I Concur with TexMex Shaman & MJ Brewer

A coisa ficou feia
Não vai ter espaço
Está tudo caindo encima de você
Dignidade em jogo é mais do que preciso para suportar
Acontece que nada ficou certo

Eu não quero que você me subestime
Você ainda não me conheceu
Só peço uma chance para demonstrar
O que é meu
O que é seu

E agora estão todos, querendo uma resposta
Uma prova concreta ,nada que pareça uma desculpa
Estão todos acreditando

Eu não quero que você me subestime
Você ainda não me conheceu
Só peço uma chance para demonstrar
O que é meu
O que é seu

Vocais, letra e melodia: Gui Pagliari
Guitarras e arranjos: Silvério Simioni
Baixo: Jaime Bones
Bateria: Kassio Todescatt

Uma Chance

Find Seagull's brilliant music here: @farout-music-studio

Find David's sublime guitar work here: @david-dunhamuser589535203
_______________________________________________________________________________

You know, don't you?  Oh, yes you do.  
You know you're being monitored, observed, assessed by something that knows you intimately.  
Knows you better than you’d like to think.  
Your secondary semi-subconscious once-removed.  
That's why you talk to yourself - or pretend to.  
Admit it - you're not really you, at all, are you?  
In fact, you're not real, are you?  You are watching “you”.  
You are nothing but your alter ego's doppelganger temporarily encased in a piece of warm, wet meat.  
A transient instantiation of a mirrored reflection of some lump of sentience from precisely one, of an infinite number of parallel universes.  

It’s called “conscience”.  

Handle with care.  

You were gifted it for a reason.
_________________________________________________________________________________

"…..Neatly packaged, all my doubts, the rationales and bellyaches,
Wracked without, passion in thrall to humanity's handicap diamond stakes…."
_________________________________________________________________________________

Ghost of a Sense

Yes, I know you.
I can feel your presence.
I can touch you, smell you.
I see you not by sight of eye
And yet I ken that you are I
That vespered wraith that writhes within
To test my faith, try my sin
Push the bounds to cause offence
A moral, soul thing, ghost of a sense recalls myself, so well defined
Entrenched, walls behind, built so sound of dust that crowned the pity, falling soft amiss, 
Deep inside the tears I cry as here I find my self-abyss.

Whispers bringing shadows, filled of secrets therein held,
Memories, morose, piece me still, to wear in time, my wasted face.
And now reside, cast aside, to forge and ever meld,
Of haunting, ringing echoes, that will alone their chime erased.

Ah! But you won't twist me, nor bind me fast, to the sandy doctrines of the misty past, 
With its beards and staffs and crinkled testaments.
My future's sprinkled here present with your crass irrelevance and matters not that sat right there, 
The blackest chasm in my simpling world so spare, 
Where space and time have overspilled the leaking psyche of a crippled mind,
That barely copes, unfulfilled, a crooked, limpid moral health of broken shrines
That hopes to find ....
   .......some worthwhile inner self.
___________________________________________________________________________________

Photo by Marten Newhall on Unsplash

Ghost of a Sense ... with Seagull and David Dunham

I fully expect some people to get creeped out and unfollow but when I used to go to church, I’d get creeped out, so this is that, and fair is fair. I'd probably get arrested in the former Unites States. FYI, I'm not really a witch.

Lyrics:

They say kneel, they say pray, then rub my shoulders and look away.
Bitter tales and the air is stale, and every song scrapes like nails.

Fingers grip far too long and voices wail and they call it song.
Speaking in tongues I can’t translate, and threats of fire if I escape.

Eyes are closed when questions burn.  
God is needy, I have learned.  
Every sermon strokes a fear and every smile masks a sneer.

If I stumble I must pay the vengeance dressed in holy gray.
I hear whispers through the walls judging me with ancient laws.

Close your eyes, eyes that pry, I was born in truth but raised in lies.
Try to mould me, I defy, I’m your fear and I will fly.

No one’s born to kneel or pray, they teach us fear to make us pay.
Books are closed when questions burn but we are here, you never learn.

Hands on eyes, eyes that pry, born in truth but raised in lies.
Try to mould me, I defy, I’m your fear and I will fly

Who I love terrifies you
A coven hidden in your pews
Your God’s a myth and you’re a fake
We live beside you, wide awake

Stay A While

bart mastin