I hope that for you and cat, your instincts returned and were sharper than ever.

encore une superbe folksong!!! ( ED, pourriez-vous écrire les lyrics ? cela permettrait aux non anglicistes de les traduire et de mieux comprendre les paroles)

sounds and your pictures are so good, inspiring.

I like your style of songwriting.It's unique, and it's real - human. I will be back.

we dont need school or shops or cars..wild ones free and clear.  like the melody and mood as well...fits the picture and stirs memories of being a kid and wandering in a field alone..

This is a musical version of the title poem from my book 'We The Wild Ones'. I've turned it into a song. It's played on guitarlele, harmonium and has lots of whistling on it. 
The recording is very inspired by the album 'Ram' by Paul McCartney.

We The Wild Ones

This song is all about visiting the wild mountainous countryside of Wales for the first time as a child. It's pretty heavily influenced by Astral Weeks era Van Morrison.

Summer EP

Stars Behind Stars

This song is about a polar bear wandering around the streets of my town.

Polar Bear

in recognition of mental health awareness week..............the blues parade has often passed my way.........peace & cheers for having a listen........



hear that rumble over the hill
shaking the glass from the window sills 
hide the money and lock the tills
here comes the blue parade

in the distance hear that noise
no need to be alarmed there boys
just keep it straight and hold your course
it's just the blue parade

it'll start real early, break of dawn
won't get much sleep from the night before
better nail down the shutters and deck the halls
here comes the blue parade

well my mind mightn't know what's goin on
but my ears are tuned to the pipers song
hands get sweaty yea it won't take long
here comes the blue parade

you might meet someone, head hung low
not much to say nowhere to go
together you can try and mend your souls
among the blue parade

you might be strangers when you start 
when the dust settles you'll never part
cos you made a pact with the bleeding hearts
now you're part of the blue parade

well my mind mightn't know what's goin on
but my ears are tuned to the pipers song
heart starts thumping yea it won't take long
here comes the blue parade

step in time march 4 to the floor
people be staring, don't matter no more
cos you sold the sink and the kitchen door
to join the blue parade

hear them blow their whistles. colors bright
seems to me to be a hell of a night
but if you look inside you'll get a fright
yea that's the blue parade

aint the time to think if what you're doing's right
just stay in line and keep your mouth shut tight
you're about to take the ride of your life
here comes the blue parade

well my mind mightn't know what's goin on
but my ears are tuned to that pipers song
god help me where did i go wrong
to end up in the blue parade
here comes the blue parade

The Blue Parade

a live demo recorded on the old tape machine.........peace, cheers for having a listen and seasons greetings.............*Tombstone Jones by The Bluebirds From Montezuma..........one of my many favs that ive found on here........a great group i like to listen to in the morn with me cuppa


somebody told me it's mind over matter
but does it matter to you that mine is in tatters
cos I'm sick of what I'm seeing on my devices
it's breaking my brain

advice never asked for, watch them boiling wooden spoons 
hearing peoples cringy songs with them singing outta tune
and pretending that they listen
to get a good review

or watch them bury their heads in their hands as they weep
cos they lost everything they got nowhere to sleep
and from the comfort of our 24/7 live feed
we can give it our armchair critique

and as always there's talk, endless conclusions
everyone shouting so there aint no solutions
to the problems that lie at our feet
seems they only exist when they're on our screen

branded and tagged like cattle at the station
trying to be our authentic self on rotation
but we can't shut up about it
cos everybody's gotta know

so many conversations we're all trying to be heard
and not paying any mind to the things that deserve 
our attention deficit has never been so bad I've heard
since 1963

and as always there's talk, endless discussions
like a blow to the head can give you concussion
like the problems that lie in our homes
seems they only exist if someone else knows

we protest cos the cows are fartin to much
but if we eat any, the plant lovers hate our guts
cos they rather we live on daises and nuts
so we can squeeze through a crack in the wall

maybe what we need to do is find a quiet space
pull up a chair and stare into space
and for 5 minutes just be alone with our face
and shut the fuck up for a while

stfu (For a While)

Funny old world.  Whilst scrumping about on SC my travels took me to Michele's cloud where I alighted on his track as named above. Sharp intake of breath and a hurried message to Michele to ask if he might be so kind as to permit me to pen a few words to accompany it.  He graciously agreed.  Having nothing in mind at the time I hastily back-pedalled and explained that it might be best if he didn't hold his breath....next day I listened again and Mr Spotty Book called over Mr Pen for a chat.  What followed in the next hour or so is somewhat blurred.  I always try to read a text in one take, for integrity's sake.  This was my fourth attempt and the only one I managed to complete.  

I decided to quit while I was ahead.

Thank you, Michele, for the warm nostalgic smile infused in this wonderful music of yours, and for the (unexpectedly moist) journey upon which it took me.

Find Michele's music here:  https://soundcloud.com/michele-ansani
________________________________________________________________________________

All the old little things we have lost

Of course, you know, Dad, that some stuff doesn’t work too well these days.
I’ll forget odd bits and bobs, like, maybe having lunch or doing promised jobs
Blimey, even birthdays on occasion slip the mind
As today’s neurons disconnect, recall’s evasion of my yesterdays so to find.
I actually forgot why I came into this room in the first place
Stood a while, cast about, then saw your face
Your smile leaping out from the old photo there
Engendered mine, returned, locked in loving stare
And propelled me back to play in those monochrome years
You know, our old box brownie’s still tucked away in the cupboard under the stairs.

Remember how it was, Dad,  how we lived, things we had?
Thrupenny bits and ha’pennies and bikes with hard rubber wheels
Plastic shoes and sock holes darned
Sparse but regular high carb, high fat meals
Never did us any harm
Hand-me-downs all around, we craved the latest style
Segs in shoes and outside loos
A homely fireplace, though just the one
We’d huddle round, our toasting forks with crumpets on, and laughing all the while

So I won’t forget all the old little things we have lost
Things so casually into history’s family album tossed
But neither have I lost my tendency to tears, welling soft
From the broken heart that burned for you, 
Then split apart and turned to frost
That day you died, just fifty two, so very young.
Who’d have thought that all those old little things
Would fill the font of memory springs 
From which this tearful smile of mine has sprung.

All the old little things we have lost: some words set to the music of Michele Ansani

MIX/MASTER: Mariosyjp

LYRIC
Faced with the knowledge 
No one knows that much 
Put your brain in sleep mode
Except your plans for lunch 
You need your nutrition 
As you contemplate 
Can you go home early 
When you came in late

Oh go on and try
Trying’s always worth a try 
Throw caution to the wind
But should it boomerang
Forget what I just sang  
Catch it on the fly, it’s worth a try

Cry to the heavens 
Curse the world to hell
But keep it to a whisper 
There’s no need to yell 
Everyone is busy
Most are on their phone
If you’re waiting on an answer
Better check your own

Still, go on and try
Trying’s always worth a try 
Gather your resources
Pack clean underwear
As if someone will care
Shout out “do or die!” 
It’s worth a try

Take your best shot
Give it all you got
And if you spot
A chance, then pounce
Serve up your last ounce
Of nerve then announce…Well I tried

So a boulder is waiting
Head down, bend your knees
From here it’s all uphill
And Sisyphus agrees
When you get to the top
Take a look around
While your back is turned
The boulder rolls back down

Sure, go on and try
Trying’s always worth a try 
This might be the puzzle
Where all the pieces fit
It’s no time to quit
Raise your hopes up high
Watch that frail bird fly
’Til an eagle drops from the sky
Oh my
Sigh
It was worth a try

Worth A Try

original: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=HwrU9IFEMHY&pp=ygUibWlzZXJ5IGxvdmVzIGNvbXBhbnkgbXlzdGljIGJyYXZlcw%3D%3D

misery loves company (mystic braves cover)

Teamed up again with my amazingly talented friend Mahan💀Mahan who did all the orchestration and engineering on this Song--
Lyric and vocals by Stonerjazz

The captain and his crew
were weeping as they knelt
upon the steps., outside the palace foyer
Righteous warriors every single one

Reflections of the sun
children of the other
the protectors of the mother
humble in their confidence of failure
unaffected by the outcome
broken hearted with the truth
grieving for their youth

And yet their heads held high
fighting tiny battles
in anticipation of something Better

its the inner not the outer
its the quiet not the shouter
its the powder not the pistol
its the battle not the score
its the boatman on the water
and the sparkle on the river
and the distant glimmer from the shore...

Captain And His Crew With Mahan💀Mahan

LYRICS
I dreamed someone was waiting
On the platform when I got there
I rubbed some dirt from off my shoes
Put a comb through my hair

But no welcome home
So good to see you again
And I was alone
In the rain

I looked around but nothing had changed
It was the same
No cheering crowds no shaken hands
No hero's back again

But no welcome home
So good to see you again
And I was alone
In the rain

Instrumental

But no welcome home
So good to see you again
And I was alone
In the rain

Outro

The Hero's Return

For Just One Moment

I am an artist, writer and musician from Hastings, UK.  I make slightly wonky acoustic folk-pop, often with unusual guitar tunings.
I record my own songs, musical versions of my own poetry and poems by my favourite poets such as Rilke and Yeats. 
Musically my current obsession is Judee Sill.
But it always comes back to the music of my childhood- The Cocteau Twins, The Waterboys, The Beatles, Joni Mitchell, Kate Bush.

We The Wild Ones

Ed Boxall

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