Name: Deleted Message by C h r i s t i a n T W a l s h
Duration: 2 min 30 s
Description: A jolly little ditty about suspicion and paranoia

You held me, Gotland wind through your hair,
Cliff behind, sea ahead, both of us unaware.
No words spoken — just breeze, and hum,
Like life began with a trumpet, and a drum.

You had a Husqvarna, smoked like jazz, never started.
“It's got character,” you'd say — deeply half-hearted.
Your socks were a crime, your puns even worse,
But your hugs were a balm, your silence a verse.

In the boxroom, brass notes floated thick in the air,
Where you taught joy in breath and solo flair.
You said, “Play for the silence, not the applause,”
And paused — like jazz does — just because.

You still play, Dad — in the sway of the trees,
In the sigh of the wind, in the hush of the breeze.
You still play —
In Tima’s wild smile, in my son's still’ stare,
In the echo of love that still hangs in the air.
This memory’s not stitched fast —
It’s riffed, bent, meant to last.

You made coffee like it was jazz — no timer, just feel,
Said sugar was cheating, and biscuits should kneel.
You hummed when you gardened, cursed dandelions sweetly,
Conducted the clouds — swaying discreetly.

You called socks “foot trumpets,” and books “time machines,”
Spoke Pooh like scripture, believed in baked beans.
And when we all argued, you’d just raise a brow —
Say, “Let the bass walk us out — we’ll be fine for now.”

You still play, Dad — in the space before sleep,
In the way I still mumble when the thinking gets deep.
You still play —
In the brass in my bones, in the laugh from the chair,
In the music that lingers, like smoke in the air.
The record skips, the beat rolls past —
But your melody’s made to last.

"Doing nothing," you said, “is often the plan —
If you hum while you do it, you’ll come out a man.”
You danced like a question, you sat like a rhyme,
You lived like a trumpet just biding its time.

She's the stars, her lullabies glide,
She’d wear your scarf and call it her pride.
He walks quiet, but I hear you there,
In the way he observes, in the way he cares.

Sofia still laughs like you told her a joke,
She says you come back in the steam and the smoke.
I still try your stew — it’s never quite right,
But I keep adding trumpet — and salt — every night.

You still play, Dad — in each skipped beat I find,
In the breath that I catch when I’m falling behind.
You still play —
In the footstep, the firelight, the sound of a page,
In the brass of the soul, no matter the age.
Not stitched in the past, not faded, not cast —
You’re riffing still, made to last.

Boxroom Brass

A jolly little ditty about suspicion and paranoia

Deleted Message

We don't smoke much anymore... but we still burn.
"Vapes" is a spoken word piece about how silence got replaced by screens, and cigarettes got traded for flavored fog.

It's not nostalgia – it's awareness.
It’s the realization that the rituals are gone,
but the ache remains.

Vapes

Tu hai in mano la chiave della porta  
Dove i sogni si sposano con i desideri,  
E quelle voglie argute, incofessabili,  
Ti fanno librare in un mondo inimmaginabile.

Sei scivolata dentro la vita mia  
Senza che me ne accorgessi,  
Silenziosa e dolce come una poesia,  
Sei riuscita a far diventare bello anche il peccato.


Dimmi cosa vuoi, sarà per te,  
Chiedi cosa vuoi, sarà per te.  
Lascia il freno delle paure,  
Abbandonati a questo abbraccio.  
Dimmi cosa vuoi, sarà per noi.

Baciami forte, fammi sentire il tuo ardore,  
Siamo un fiume in piena, travolti dal calore.  
Le tue mani esplorano, senza alcun freno,  
Ogni tocco è un sussurro, un dolce veleno.

Dimmi cosa vuoi, sarà per te,  
Chiedi cosa vuoi, sarà per te.  
Lascia il freno delle paure,  
Abbandonati a questo abbraccio.  
Dimmi cosa vuoi, sarà per noi.

E se il mondo ci guarda, noi non ci fermeremo,  
In questo gioco di corpi, ci perderemo.  
Ogni attimo è un brivido, un desiderio sfrenato,  
In questo amore dolce, siamo entrambi rapite e incantate.

Dimmi cosa vuoi, sarà per te,  
Chiedi cosa vuoi, sarà per te.  
Lascia il freno delle paure,  
Abbandonati a questo abbraccio.  
Dimmi cosa vuoi, sarà per noi.

dimmi cosa vuoi

I'm putting up new original material on my Spotify channel https://open.spotify.com/artist/2PtcG937rHfQWJwv0Zi4um?si=t1ppLngORgmuqz9qeoDOzw 
Mostly original tracks, a few covers here and there. Thank you for even getting this far. Thoughts, opinions, suggestions all welcome. It's pretty lonely out here toiling over every sound wave and grubby plugin. Any feedback is appreciated and if you've got a track you want me to hear send it over - what comes around goes around etc. A huge shout out to Len Rice for all his production suggestions on this and other tracks of mine - a true expert, check him out https://soundcloud.com/lenrice
One day I hope to get some collaborations going and a far off dream is to re awaken all these tracks in a live environment with a live band and maybe even a live audience. For now the dream keeps me going. Thanks for listening.

I'm trying to use as much real instrumentation as possible: a Taylor and a Norman acoustic guitars, a Fender Strat Roadhouse that goes out of tune if I even look at it, a cheap Vintage mandolin that hurts to play and listen to, an 80 year old zither banjo that screams 'I was never destined for this' and a borrowed Aria Pro II bass that a friend can never be bothered to take home on the bus. Synths are a plasticky Roland FA06 and a fun but dumb Korg minilogue. Throw in some Native Instruments software primarily for smoochy piano and strings, a £15 melodica full of tramp spit, some harps in impossible tunings, and a box of percussion and assorted prehistoric flints (are you really still reading this??). 

All recorded on Logic Pro X on an ancient iMac that is going to explode any minute and take my entire oeuvre with it. And most likely burn the house down.

Deleted Message

C h r i s t i a n T W a l s h

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