Nothing At All

Tonight

Weathered Hearts Back in sound cloud✨✨https://soundcloud.com/weatheredhearts 
Patchwork Heart(Weathered Hearts&Tot.）
Beat by Tot.masa
Words&vocals,final mix,masterd and lovely art work by Weathered Hearts
Thank U for listening from us three🙏🙏🙏

Lyrics:
I’m a pattern on a patchwork heart
What am I gonna do with my little part?
Cover up everything that’s dark?
Or shoot light outta my heart

Like a rainbow
Cut through the clouds
Like a rainbow

Do da do Do da do

Shuffling along inside my shoes
Walking on a different road than you

Do da do Do da do

I’m hoping we can find a thread to share

Seems to me we’re really quite the same
Really quite the same
We’re different patterns cut in different shapes

Ooo, are you?
Maybe not, maybe we are
The same thing, underneath this
Ooo, are you?
Maybe not, but what if we are
The same thing, underneath this?

Do you wanna make a patchwork heart?
We are only strong as the thread holding us together
Double seam on the things that we really need
To hold the light in our hearts

Like a rainbow

Cut through the clouds
Like a rainbow

Shoot out my heart
Like a rainbow

You’re in my heart
Like a rainbow

Stick together like a patchwork heart
And shine our light

Like a rainbow
It’s the colour of light

Stick together like a patchwork heart
And shine our light
Like a rainbow
It’s the colour of light

Like a rainbow
It’s the colour of light

Like a rainbow
It’s the colour of light

Patchwork Heart with Weathered Hearts

Recorded and produced
 by greyshoes#music-berlin
03/2025
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Artwork by P. Werzlau  
using the photo:
Landscape, Uckermark #2 
(detail) 

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© All rights reserved

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Between Landscapes #2

Attacca
: attack at once 
—used as a direction in music at the end of a movement to begin the next without pause.

Movement. .......................................................................  Timeline

1st .............War Cry ......Call to Arms ...............................0.00--1.55
2nd............The Advance to Battle ...................................1.55--2.48
3rd.............The Battle Begins...........................................2.48--3.59
4th.............The Triumphant...............................................4.00--5.10
Thanks to Dennis for his pristine gunfire and airbourne fx....https://pixabay.com/users/dennish18-26151496/
Cover-art :- Marek Studzinski ...https://unsplash.com/@jccards
Orchestration,arrangement,mix and production ...Pablo

Attacca

"Attacca"

Image by Stablecog AI:

When I came up with my stage name for SoundCloud,
I imagined an old organ grinder with his monkey and money cup,
cranking away on a street corner of an old cobblestone village.
But these days, the street corner was even older, as was the man himself,
along with his old synthesizer. The monkey is long gone, in case you were wondering.

Actually, I was quite surprised when the image that appeared got my glasses and my beard right, and even my blue shirt along with a pocket (where I keep my pocket protecter full of pens and pencils). Heck, it could almost have been my photo.

Ye Olde Synthgrinder

Dim and Diminished

I used to work in a municipal council depot in the late 1980’s and met some brilliant characters. Ronnie was one of them - he used to walk 3 miles each way to work/home. He had interesting views on life! It’s a bleak folk song but with some humour thrown in. They all used quite fruity/earthy expressions and I wanted to capture some of that. I hope you enjoy it. Mastered by RCD Digital. 
Lyrics 

Cough up the green, like a dying mans wheeze 
Mould on the walls, there’s no enjoyment 
Clothes so damp, they’ll rot your bones
It’s all frustration and disappointment 

Life is a sore that never heals

Day after day it’s just
Walk to work, pick up them bags 
Throw them in as the packerplate screeches 
Home, eat, soak my plums if I’m lucky, then sleep
But it’s still dark when I wake up! 

In all weather we work, shine, snow and rain
Fevers and puking, we push through the pain
But don’t think the boss will let you be late 
The old man will lose it and show you the gate!!

Life is a sore that never heals

Day after day it’s just
Walk to work, pick up those bags
Throw them in as the packer plate screeches 
Home, eat, sink some pints if I’m lucky
And sleep, but it’s still dark when I wake up 

And the great and the good, shiny and monied
their perfect kids with daddy and mummy 
What’s it to me where they live, what they do
How they’re doing in school, or where they holiday to?
I don’t care , it’s not my life
Leave me alone! 

And now there’s lots of management around
To save some money and cut some rounds
But there’s only so much these old bones can take
Push me too hard and the old back will break

Scratch cards! Yeah scratch cards
Thank God for scratch cards 
One lucky match,  I break free
But until then, it’s the same old routine

Day after day it’s just
Walk to work 
Pick up those bags
Throw them in as the packer plate screeches 
Home, eat, sit and rest if I’m lucky 
Then sleep, but it’s still dark when I wake up! 

James Whiteman copyright (lyrics 2017; music 2025)

Ronnie’s Lament (The Loader)

Vidéo : youtu.be/z-aae0BK5p8

Brande (Translated after the French text )

Texte : Sanzen
Chant : Desdanova ( @denis-rousseau-182743563 )
Musique : Alain Illos

Sans un bruit, ce matin,
une rose est éclose.
Perdue en ce jardin
où mon coeur agonise.
Au milieu de hautes herbes,
c'est elle survivante.
Soudain dans l'air vibrant,
mes souvenirs voltigent.
Dans la chaude lumière,
de cette beauté naissante;
perdues dans ma mémoire,
de sinistres images...
Sans un bruit ce matin,
mon coeur s'est lavé.
Perdu en ce jardin,
dans la chaude lumière.
Au milieu de mes souvenirs
qui voltigent.
Des hautes herbes
et d'un été naissant.
C'est ma joie survivante,
sur la brande, ce matin.
Aux vies agonisantes,
à la beauté naissante.
Aux images oubliées,
soudain, dans l'air vibrant.

Brande
Without a sound, this morning,
a rose bloomed.
Lost in this garden
where my heart agonizes.
In the midst of tall grasses,
is the surviving rose.
Suddenly, in the vibrant air,
my memories flutter.
In the warm light,
of this emerging beauty;
lost in my memory,
of sinister images...
Without a sound this morning,
my heart washed.
Lost in this garden,
in the warm light.
In the midst of my fluttering memories
.
Tall grasses
and a budding summer.
This is my surviving joy,
on the heather this morning.
To dying lives,
to emerging beauty.
To forgotten images,
suddenly, in the vibrant air.


Brande avec Desdanova

2025/6/2

Website

前夜 (zenya)

Wide Awake

TO LISTEN TO FULL ALBUMS, LINKS TO YOUTUBE, SPOTIFY, AND ITUNES ARE BELOW:

Recorded / mixed / Mastered by Bart Koster - Midtown Recording -Westlake Ohio

Nothing At All

BRIAN P MATHENY