 A bit of fun this one.  Everybody thinks about running away to somewhere tropic.  I just like the thought of drinking alcoholic beverages with large reptilian beasts.
Enjoy

Hey Hey (What A Way To Go)

Wait another day
To say goodbye
Just choose another face
And give it anohter try

Though I know your battle is at it's end
I am not oke losing a friend

Now I keep on wishing 
For you
To see the sun
One more time
And then the moon

One more time
One more day
To stay

I know you said,
That you wanne stay
But not in the way,
You are today

That is why it's better to say goodbye
That is what you told me, that last time

Now I keep on wishing 
For you
To see the sun
One more time
And then the moon

One more time
One more day
To stay

Goodbye - Original Song

As each November approaches I try to make my own little Remembrance-time tribute.  Seems more relevant as each year passes...

Following the huffing and puffing empire lunacy in the summer of 1914, the next four years would see 40 million casualties, half of them deaths and of those, half were civilian.  

40 million.

40 million tales of poignancy, pain, grief and human tragedy, through times that can often seem littered with coincidence, symmetries …. bookends and mirrors.

In the Military Cemetery of St Symphorien near Mons rests John Parr.  At only five foot three inches and several years under age he (amazingly) managed to enlist in 1912 - hoping to see the world, and get the advertised “two square meals” a day.  He was the first British Army casualty, killed in the battle of Mons aged just 17, his body left behind, fate unknown until much later in the conflict;  the army unable to answer his mother’s letters of enquiry about her “silent” son.

By pure coincidence, John lies just a few yards from the last British soldier to die in the great war.  George Ellison served for four long years including at the same first battle of Mons as John, and most of the famously grinding, attritional infantry battles of the conflict.  His working life bookended by military service, George had first enlisted in 1902, leaving the army in 1912, just as John joined, he became a coal miner, re-enlisting at the outbreak of war to dig mud not coal and fight from trenches he helped excavate.  George was killed just 90 minutes before the armistice took effect at 11:00 on the 11th day of the 11th month.  The futility of the conflict was cruelly illustrated by the fact that George’s war had started and ended at exactly the same place, Mons in Belgium.  They had literally gone nowhere.

As a postscript to progress since "the war to end all wars" the human race is currently reckoned to be engaged in 7 major wars, 15 significant ongoing conflicts and 21 “minor” conflicts (the latter defined as up to "only” 1000 deaths per year).  By way of another macabre bookend, the longest of these has been going on, unbelievably, since the year .... 1918.

As always, this simple ballad is offered as a live one mic one take effort - please excuse the fluffs and gaffes.
_______________________

Bookends and Mirrors

Sun turned cold ‘cross every sky in the summer of ‘14
The Good Lord shook his head, and he placed it in his hands
Braided declarations flying, whose like was never seen
Lunatics in feathers stockpiled lead, bagged their sand.
Slapstick Mephistopheles, unleashing of his flame
Spiral minds lobotomised in the waltz of the insane
Simple lives unknowing of the mud that would become
A mirror in the resting place of two Holy Mother’s sons.

Signed the line, five years young, fingers crossed behind his back
Chance to see the world, grab a future, two square meals.
At 17, John’s angels sung, first to fall in dawn’s attack
Abandoned and forgotten, deaf to all his ma’s appeals.
Never knew the miner, his bookend pal to be
Fighting down the line, many battles that he’d see
Full four years in trenches, George’s hell lived through them all
Cruelty was smiling wide at England’s last to fall.

In service time they travelled nowhere, nothing to achieve
Embracing 40 million weeping mothers left to grieve
The crime of puffing chest bravado beggared to believe
Hall of mirrors seeping others’ blood of the innocent naive.

Now John and George lie facing each to seek their mirrored peace
Raise my eyes and brim a tear for the lessons never learned
Pray God, don’t ever let them know man’s insanity but increased
The war to end all wars a mere sequel oft’ returned 
By comedies of leathered fools stuck on infinite repeat
Bemedalled and bejewelled, they prosecute their moral defeat
But here, on sallow turf twixt heroes, broken mirror in my broken hand
Met by my own broken eyes, I still fail to understand.
_________
Photo by Michael Yuan on Unsplash

Bookends and Mirrors

Photography, psychology
Writing songs and praying for peace

But I fell out of love
With all of me
But I fell out of peace
With all I see

Now I pray to god
For what it takes
For just one day
Without my pain
Without my shame

Childhood fears and breakup tears
I got some good friends
And the whole world ahead

But I fell out of love
With all of me
But I fell out of peace
With all I see

Now I pray to god
For what it takes
For just one day
Without my pain
Without my shame

And I know what I gotta be
And I know what you're gonna say
Be patient

Photography, psychology
Writing songs and praying for peace

But I fell out of love

Breakdown - Original song

Original by Tom Wait 1973

Docvet : Vocal  & acoustic finger picked guitar

Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You  W/ Docvet

"Genova per noi" is a song written by Paolo Conte in 1975, and first performed by Bruno Lauzi.
It's a dedication to the city of Genoa, the song describes the impressions of Piedmontese who go to Genoa, that is, the relationships of race, attitude and temperament between neighbours in the region.

It's also strikingly reminiscent of this Welsh country bumpkin's impressions of the "big city".

The guitar was played by my son Gideon. We hope you'll enjoy!

Lyrics

Con quella faccia un po' così
Quell'espressione un po' così
Che abbiamo noi prima di andare a Genova
Che ben sicuri mai non siamo
Che quel posto dove andiamo
Non c'inghiotte e non torniamo più

Eppur parenti siamo un po'
Di quella gente che c'è lì
Che in fondo in fondo è come noi, selvatica
Ma che paura ci fa quel mare scuro
Che si muove anche di notte e non sta fermo mai

Genova per noi
Che stiamo in fondo alla campagna
E abbiamo il sole in piazza rare volte
E il resto è pioggia che ci bagna
Genova, dicevo, è un'idea come un'altra

Ma quella faccia un po' così
Quell'espressione un po' così
Che abbiamo noi mentre guardiamo Genova
Ed ogni volta l'annusiamo
E circospetti ci muoviamo
Un po' randagi ci sentiamo noi

Macaia, scimmia di luce e di follia
Foschia, pesci, Africa, sonno, nausea, fantasia
E intanto, nell'ombra dei loro armadi
Tengono lini e vecchie lavande
Lasciaci tornare ai nostri temporali
Genova ha i giorni tutti uguali

In un'immobile campagna
Con la pioggia che ci bagna
E i gamberoni rossi sono un sogno
E il sole è un lampo giallo al parabrise

Con quella faccia un po' così
Quell'espressione un po' così
Che abbiamo noi che abbiamo visto Genova
Che ben sicuri mai non siamo
Che quel posto dove andiamo
Non c'inghiotte e non torniamo più

English

With that face a bit like that
That expression is a bit like that
Which we have before going to Genoa
That we are never very sure
That's where we go
It doesn't swallow us up and we never come back

Yet we are somewhat relatives
Of those people there
Who deep down is like us, wild
But how scary that dark sea makes us
Which also moves at night and never stays still

Genoa for us
That we are at the bottom of the countryside
And we rarely have the sun in the square
And the rest is rain that soaks us
Genoa, I was saying, is an idea like any other

But that face is a bit like that
That expression is a bit like that
Which we have while we look at Genoa
And every time we smell it
And we move cautiously
We feel a little stray

Macaia, monkey of light and madness
Mist, fish, Africa, sleep, nausea, fantasy
And meanwhile, in the shadows of their closets
They keep linens and old lavender
Let us return to our storms
Genoa has all the same days

In a countryside property
With the rain that drenches us
And the red prawns are a dream
And the sun is a yellow flash at the parabrise

With that face a bit like that
That expression is a bit like that
Which we have who have seen Genoa
That we are never very sure
That's where we go
It doesn't swallow us up and we never come back

Genova Per Noi (Paolo Conte / Bruno Lauzi Cover - Giddy & Rob Jam)

out of rope

C I miss the sun
Am don’t know where he’s gone
F but not as much as I G7 miss you

C I stay indoors
Am pace these floors
F Forgot what it is to G7 kiss you

Em I know time is F running out
Em don’t know what this F song’s about
except G7 growing old
dm7 growing G cold x2

C There’s less time ahead
than Em what’s gone before. 
F What will we do 
with the G7 years left in store?

C Use them or lose them, 
Em that’s what they say. 
F Keep on breathing
till G7 that judgement day 

C And I don’t want F hope
C I won’t F despair
C am out of F rope
but I don’t G7 care

for these C changing F times
the C digital F stew
I C read the F signs 
to get a G7 clue

Em Just another empty F weekend. 
Em Nothing to do but F sleep. 
Em These dark and F wintry days. 
Em How slowly, how mercilessly they F creep. 

Fmaj7 I can’t make the day G anew; Am
Am has it all run out at G last?
Fmaj7 All is silent in this G listless Am room.
Am I live with shadows of the G past.
Of the past  F G

(repeat ‘there’s less time ahead’ section + add)
No, I don’t want hope / I won’t despair
am out of rope / but I don’t care /
I just don’t F (G bass) care. (E shape one fret up, soft)

TASCAM DR-05

out of rope

One of the cool things about FAWM is the 'skirmishes'. One hour to write and record a song based on a prompt from the skirmish host. Normally I don't do them as they scare the bejezus out of me. But it was the last day of the month, and a leap year too, so felt like I should dip in. This was the result of a prompt 'The Goblin Masquerade'...

A Little Goblin Like Me

There's something very special about the making of a song. Sometimes its lyrics given music, or music given a voice of it's own. This time it was probably even more special. I wanted to show my daughter how to write and record a song. So I wrote some lyrics practiced some and recorded it while explaining everything I was doing. I told her that words are magic, and you can use them to shape the world around you. You can use them to hurt people, make them sad, make them laugh... but ultimately I hoped that she would use her words wisely to uplift people's spirits. In turn it would shape her world for the better. That if she used her words to harm others, those words would harm her in return. If she used her words for good, it would shape her into the beautiful woman she is meant to be some day. I hope you all find this song as beautiful as I do.

Lyrics:

Beyond the wall
There lies a story
A love so deep
It was buried
Beneath 
The old oak tree
And in the trunk
Their names were carved
Beneath the old 
Oak tree
Their names
Forgotten memories

And you say, 
Nothing last forever
And I say
You’re wrong
Because just because
We’re gone
Doesn’t mean our love
Won’t carry on

Beyond the wall
The cries of warring
The blood would seep
his to carry
Burden
Heavy as an oak tree
Where in the trunk
Their vows were carved
Beneath the old 
Oak tree
Their vows
Begotten Children sing

And you say, 
Nothing last forever
And I say
You’re wrong
Because just because
We’re gone
Doesn’t mean our love
Won’t carry on

The Old Oak Tree

Someone I recently met, but would consider a friend at this point, helped me with this song. I was in a really bad funk and having trouble making new songs. I asked for some help, and he showed up and was super supportive. I consider this a get back on track tune and it's very special to me. I hope you enjoy it! 

Lyrics:
Everybody has their dreams
Not thinking of all the others
Everybody has something
To accomplish for their mothers
Take a seat and think about it
Is your life not important
That you’d just fade away
Into the great unknown 

I often think of dying
And what it may bring
Life is so precious
But too often wasted
The moments tend to fade
Like boxes being stored away

Is it really worth dying for 
I try to remember, think of the good times
So easy to kill their dreams
Fragile memories, think of the children
Your time may have come and passed
But you can make moments last
Is it really worth going out that way

Remember the Good Times

lyrics:

arachne:
thought you where perfect in my eyes
(i thought you where perfect)
you had other plans if i known id rather die
(rather die) i dont care what you do to me
(do what you want) just be gentle with me like usually

bbjoshy:
you say you're all mine but it don't feel right
you can be friendly talk to me gently
please don't raise your voice i gave you the choice
you know you're my sweet girl show you around the world
don't get mad you're so bad don't be rude
ruined my mood girl, be quiet i want the silence 
girl, be quiet we should try it

arachne:
thought you where perfect in my eyes
(i thought you where perfect)
you had other plans if i known id rather die
(rather die) i dont care what you do to me
(do what you want) just be gentle with me like usually

prod.mercenarychild

rosetta w/ bbjoshy

I work as a nurse in the state of Florida and I love being there for people in need. My other true passion is making music. I'm kind of an amateur but I look forward to getting better and making the best music I can.

Most the songs I do in about a day and then move on. I don't have the skill to make them radio quality yet, but I hope with collaborating with others and making my own music I will learn some skills along the way. I don't focus on perfection, I focus on emotion and try to put feeling into my music.

Also, I love to get lost in other peoples work, I will often play video games while listening to a bunch of someone else's works and commenting on the ones I like the most, not all though, don't wanna seem like a stalker, unless you like that of course.

Been feeling a little burnt out lately, so if I'm not responsive please don't take it personal. Having to work OT to keep the family afloat, so I haven't had time for music and when I do have any time I'm just too exhausted. I definitely want to make more it brings me a lot of joy to make music. At the same time it is very taxing, reaching into the depths can sometimes cause unwanted feelings to linger longer than they should. Anyway, I love all the support you have all sent my way. See ya around!

The Old Oak Tree

Bubba Maddux