SUNDAY  SOUND TRACK 17 08

All Things Are Impermanent

Wide Awake

A while ago...
https://soundcloud.com/bigpapashonan played this awesome violin and designed this wonderful instrumental,  a Big Thank You for that, it was a great pleasure to write and sing along. Please take a listen to the remix of KBS: https://soundcloud.com/bigpapashonan/trickery0228?si=35e45cbd417c4accb2a68553122900b0&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

The lines (translated, edited, retranslated, reedited...) derive from "Philoctetes“ (409 B.C.), a Greek tragedy by Sophocles (496 - 405 B.C.). Mainly it is Ulysses speaking to Neoptolemos (The son of Achilles) in order to conspire against the bowman Philoctetes…

The picture shows a detail of „The Wounded Philoctetes“, a painting by Nicolai Abildgaard, 1775

Trickery

1 
This is how far we have gone 
In the matter (4)
Into the nets
Of our own and others’ steps
That there is no way out
But just the farther

REF 
What we show here has no morals
You can’t learn anything from life with us,
And, 
If you want to pass,
You can leave now
You can leave…
You can leave now…

Bridge
Oh, you have two eyes…
Please, show me my face


2
Easily with twisted tongue
You catch him
Easily we drag him
To the ship -
In this trade 
You are not the first one
Who does, 
What he does’nt want to…
We did it before you 
We did that before…

REF 
What we show here has no morals
You can’t learn anything from life with us,
And, 
If you want to pass,
You can leave now 
You can leave…
You can leave now…

Trickery (wt KBS, raw edit)

Time to get satirical with the US political dystopia, or maybe I'm just a  little touchy after all the threats to Canada, both political and economic (not pondering the military  threat to allies)
Sorry if this is offensive to any US-based listeners. Sorry, not sorry ;)

Track 2 from a new 2025 collection of ideas called FRINGE found at https://www.terrywigmore.com/wigmore-allen-gibbons

 Lyrics:
They've all come around on bended knee
Kissing the a-a-a-ass of a once and future king
They fought a war to get rid of a crown
Only to give it away to an autocratic clown
(how come you misjudge me so...

Pick on immigrants, round them all up
Doesn't matter if they're the ones who fill your shops
With all the merchandise and food that you just can't ignore
So you haul them off to a foreign shore - a foreign shore -a foreign
(how come you misjudge me x2   ...so...)

I take a little salt, not on the tail
I like my golden jets, like my foreign jails
I talk of the land, the land of the "free"
Whatever you've got, just give it to me


How did you misjudge me (x3)
I am the claw, in the white flabby hand
(how could you misjudge me (x2)
Autocratic clown (x3)

* samples... "I am Oz, the great and powerful, who are you?", "I could shoot somebody on Fifth Ave..", "China has total respect for Donald Trump and  for Donald Trump's very, very large uh, brain"

Note: No salt on the tail - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salting_a_bird%27s_tail

Wigmore: music, production, main lyrics and vocals
Allen: additional vocals and lyrics, bass, guitars

Autocratic Clown

https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/album/10sxiy3Ds20LZwmXCscjae
https://music.apple.com/us/album/funny-days-ep/1822802207
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCm8WMUk78ieCvdKBsnjLuVg

recorded in Area 52 Studio, Saugerties New York   
Steve Rust on Bass, Harvey Sorgen on Drums, Olivia Siegel Keyboards     Barbara Browning Vocals & Cello   Imre L. Vocals, Guitars, Hammond organ

ENCORE-UNCHAINED LOVE

Buy Here

A song of unrequited love.. from my early twenties… precious metal reasons.. I’m so blue! ( not about Detroit Lions.. or Hawaii, ha!😆) .. give me a C.. a bouncy C!! 😅..just moving another song from K2 and the Four.. back to my @ paid page! One of my earliest recordings.. from 2020.. best year ever!!!🤔🤣🤩

Honolulu Blue and Silver

Bombs drop

Super nova lights 
The southern sky
Right before the bombs drop
Ending all of life

1,2
3,4
Shut the fucking door


I walk across this earth
It’s truths written in lies
The sun kisses my face
I’m already dead inside

Before Bomb$ Drop

Trop de prisonniers politiques dans le monde!
J'ai composé cette chanson sur un texte de Boris Vian,  un écrivain, poète, parolier, et  chanteur français que j’admire beaucoup.
https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boris_Vian

Too many political prisoners in the world!
I composed this song on a text by Boris Vian, a French writer, poet, lyricist, and singer whom I admire very much.
https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boris_Vian

Les images ne sont pas des vrais prisonniers
The images are not real prisoners
 Translation after the French text


Le Politique (par Boris Vian, Extrait)

Ils ont sonné à ma porte
Je suis sorti de mon lit
Ils sont entré dans ma chambre
Ils m’ont dit de m’habiller

Le soleil par la fenêtre
Ruisselait sur le plancher
Ils m’ont dit mets tes chaussures 
On chantait sur le palier`

J’ai descendu l’escalier
Entre leurs deux uniformes 
Adossé à une borne
Un clochard se réveillait

Ils me donneront la fièvre
La lumière dans les yeux
Ils me casseront les jambes
A coups de souliers ferrés

Mais je ne dirai rien
Car je n’ai rien à dire
Je crois à ce que j’aime
Et vous le savez bien

Ils m’ont demandé mon âge
J’ai répondu vingt sept ans 
Ils ont écrit de mensonges
Sur des registres pesants

Ils voulaient que je répète
Tout ce que j’avais chanté
Il y avait une mouche
Sur la manche du greffier

Mais  je ne dirais rien 
Car je n’ai rien à dire
Je crois à ce que j’aime
Et vous le savez bien

Qui vous a donné le droit 
De juger votre prochain
Votre robe de droit noir
Ou vos figures de deuils

Si vous voulez que je vive
Mettez moi en liberté
Si vous voulez que je meure
A quoi bon me torturer

Mais  je ne dirais rien 
Car je n’ai rien à dire
Je crois à ce que j’aime
Et vous le savez bien



The Politician (by Boris Vian, Excerpt)

They rang my doorbell
I got out of bed
They came into my room
They told me to get dressed

The sun through the window
Streamed onto the floor
They told me to put on your shoes
We were singing on the landing

I went down the stairs
Between their two uniforms
Leaning against a post
A tramp was waking up

They'll give me a fever
The light in my eyes
They'll break my legs
With their iron-shod shoes

But I won't say anything
Because I have nothing to say
I believe in what I love
And you know it well

They asked me my age
I answered twenty-seven
They wrote lies
In heavy registers

They wanted me to repeat
Everything I had sung
There was a fly
On the sleeve of Clerk

But I won't say anything
Because I have nothing to say
I believe in what I love
And you know that well

Le politique

Inspired by Astor Piazzola's Otonos Porteno, my two old high school guitar mates and I are virtually tracking in an empty warehouse near Doheny Beach, CA this week.  Here is our best track taken from those sessions.

Guitars x Warehouse

http://francoispierremorin.com  Home of storytelling , 
 I do play Music for the love of it, playing guitar,  percussionist  ,composing  on a computer and Guitar, Piano, creator of mood and sound design

SUNDAY SOUND TRACK 17 08

fpmorinstudio