Holding Out

Dan Blackard says.  I was thinking of what to write for this track while sitting in the parking lot at 4:30 in the morning. When for no particular reason visions of my youth and things I vaguely remember started to just flash into my mind. I almost just let the thoughts go. But, some of the memories seemed vivid. The commercials, tv shows and many of the things that, for only the briefest of times, meant a great deal to me.  And then I realized that my head was actually telling me that this was the song. Or, it's more than possible that I was half asleep😆.

Lyrics;
There's the doggy in the window
There's a red balloon
And hey diddle diddle
The cow that jumped over the moon

There's the marbles and jacks
Cartoon mouse and cat
And toys from the days
From when Santa got fat

And I can still find
In the back of my mind
All of the things
This kid left behind

Some crayons and books
Not to read, just for looks
And the big cookie jar
from where all the cookies were took

An old piggy bank
Plastic soldiers and tank
A box of Mr. Bubbles
In the tub where my submarine sank

And I can still find
In the back of my mind
All of the things
This kid left behind

Gumby and Pokey
Ranger hat from Smokey
The old hot wheels cars
A book of Sneetches with stars on thars
Big Tonka truck
The old rubber duck
Let go of my eggos
watch out for the legos.

And I can still find
In the back of my mind
All of those things
This kid left behind

What This Kid Left Behind

well the last thing that i remember,
i was walking home from the grocery store.
and i was cutting through the alley,
and a large man in black was blocking my back door.

now i think that we had a tussle or two,
but i cant remember that much more.
but now i'm stripped down but ass naked,
and I'm' nailed to my very own bedroom floor.

been playng dead for about an hour or two,
just to hear if any bodys home.
i think the place is pretty vacant,
at least i'm naked and all alone.

ive been looking for ways to free myself,
theres not much i can do.
nailed to the floor by the skin of my nuts,
i'm gonna have to pull it through.

i gathered up my wits,
and got up to my knees.
just a-rippin and a-tearin ,
beggin mother mary please.

the moment i had freed myself,
and i headed for the phone.
he came out of the closet,
he'd been there all along.

he said "this is my home"
he said "this is my home"
he said "this is my home"
he said "this is my home"

he said "this is mine!"

"this is my home
and you're my little pet
nailed to the floor 
where  i put you there to rest
i know its been a long day
i bet you're feeling sick
but wait till you're nailed to the floor
by the meat of your dick!"

Stephen Malson's Album

Skin of My Nuts

The Casual Detectives

This is The Casual Detectives. A group of older folks who enjoy investigating, in a dramatic way,  anything they might have questions about. 

Lyrics;
The Casual Detectives
Gather for the carpool
On the hunt for  some mysteries
Like Peroit and Mrs. Marple

These aren't Philip Marlowes
With dark sarcastic views
Sam Spades or Sherlock Holmes
Hardy Boys or Nancy Drews

Unusual suspects
With a little too much time
Searching for the answers
To questions they might find

Reading Hammet and Doyle
Chandler and Christie
Inspiration from the masters
To help them search successfully

For cases yet to be resolved
Intense discussions over dinner
Like the food sometimes a case gets cold
And the Thin Man just keeps on getting thinner

It's all about the mystery
It's a game they love to play
Not locked up in their living rooms
In a rocker night and day

Getting facts like ol Joe Friday
The Detectives hit the street
The Shadow knows where evil lurks
And that's where the gumshoes meet

For missing pieces of the puzzles
And many mysteries to explore
The Casual Detectives
Go on the hunt once more

To the finish they will chase
The clues to crack the case
Scooby Dooing through the town
To reveal the answer's face

It's elementary
They will leave no stone unturned
They're working on deductions
From information learned

The Casual Detectives
Have their own directive
Enjoy the time your given
And the mystery of living

The Casual Detectives

The Casual Detectives

"...And as I'm an ass, I advise you to choose
An ass as the king of the land here;
We're founding the mighty donkey-realm,
Where only the asses command here..."


„The Electorate Donkeys“, aka "The Electoral Asses" by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856), a famous poet, novelist and journalist.
Best known outside Germany for his early lyric poetry, which was set to music in the form of lieder (art songs) by composers such as Robert Schumann and Franz Schubert. Heine's later verse and prose are distinguished by their satirical wit and irony. He is considered a member of the Young Germany movement. His radical political views led to many of his works being banned by German authorities—which, however, only added to his fame. He spent the last 25 years of his life as an expatriate in Paris.

A loud Hee-Haw to my donkey fellow https://soundcloud.com/33per on the other side of this unhinged world... 


Die Wahl-Esel 

Die Freiheit hat man satt am End’
Und die Republik der Tiere 
Begehrte, daß ein einz’ger Regent 
Sie absolut regiere 

Jedwede Tiergattung versammelte sich
 Wahlzettel wurden geschrieben
 Parteisucht wütete fürchterlich
Intrigen wurden getrieben
Das Komitee der Esel ward 
Von Alt-Langohren regieret
Sie hatten die Köpfe mit einer Kokard
Die schwarz-rot-gold, verzieret
Es gab eine kleine Pferdepartei
Doch wagte sie nicht zu stimmen
Sie hatte Angst vor dem Geschrei
 Der Alt-Langohren, der grimmen
Als einer jedoch die Kandidatur
 Des Rosses empfahl, mit Zeter 
Ein Alt-Langohr in die Rede ihm fuhr
Und schrie: Du bist ein Verräter!

Du bist ein Verräter, es fließt in dir 
Kein Tropfen vom Eselsblute
Du bist kein Esel, ich glaube schier
Dich warf eine welsche Stute

Du stammst vom Zebra vielleicht, die Haut 
Sie ist gestreift zebräisch 
Auch deiner Stimme näselnder Laut 
Klingt ziemlich ägyptisch-hebräisch

Und wärst du kein Fremdling, so bist du doch nur 
Verstandesesel, ein kalter
 Du kennst nicht die Tiefen der Eselsnatur 
Dir klingt nicht ihr mystischer Psalter
Ich aber versenkte die Seele ganz
 In jenes süße Gedösel
Ich bin ein Esel, in meinem Schwanz 
Ist jedes Haar ein Esel
Ich bin kein Römling, ich bin kein Slav 
Ein deutscher Esel bin ich
Gleich meinen Vätern 
Sie waren so brav 
So pflanzenwüchsig, so sinnig


Sie spielten nicht mit Galanterei
 Frivole Lasterspiele
Sie trabten täglich, frisch-fromm-fröhlich-frei
Mit ihren Säcken zur Mühle

Die Väter sind nicht tot! Im Grab 
Nur ihre Häute liegen
 Die sterblichen Hüllen 
Vom Himmel herab 
Schaun' sie auf uns mit Vergnügen

Verklärte Esel im Gloria-Licht! 
Wir wollen Euch immer gleichen
 Und niemals von dem Pfad der Pflicht 
Nur einen Fingerbreit weichen
O welche Wonne, ein Esel zu sein! 
Ein Enkel von solchen Langohren! 
Ich möcht es von allen Dächern schrein'
Ich bin als ein Esel geboren
Der große Esel, der mich erzeugt 
Er war von deutschem Stamme
Mit deutscher Eselsmilch gesäugt 
Hat mich die Mutter, die Mamme
Ich bin ein Esel, und will getreu
Wie meine Väter, die Alten 
An der alten, lieben Eselei
Am Eseltume halten

Und weil ich ein Esel, so rat ich Euch
Den Esel zum König zu wählen
Wir stiften das große Eselreich
Wo nur die Esel befehlen

Wir alle sind Esel! I-A! I-A! 
Wir sind keine Pferdeknechte
 Fort mit den Rossen! 
Es lebe, hurra! 
Der König vom Eselsgeschlechte!

So sprach der Patriot. Im Saal 
Die Esel Beifall rufen
 Sie waren alle national
 Und stampften mit den Hufen
Sie haben des Redners Haupt geschmückt 
Mit einem Eichenkranze
Er dankte stumm, und hochbeglückt 
Wedelt' er mit dem Schwanze

Die Wahl-Esel (Heine, 1855) ft 33per

Vocals, guitar, and foot operated drums all performed live by Franko Malley

wasted away again
now i'm coming home my friend
this is not the way i envisioned it
it's all my fault

its not the time to mend and heal
its time to make repairs
all my loves and my relationships
and to all the things i broke

the air... still feels...
the same... round here...
and i'm all there is to blame
and its all my fault

the faces when i close my eyes
remind me of my shame.
and take me to a place i can't let go
and it's all my fault

just let me go home
i can do better
i can do better

all these tears can't wash away all that wretched pain
just let me do better
lord let me do better

there's that line in the dirt
made of soil and decay
let me do better
let me do better

theres that long dark road
where i been down before
let me do better
let me do better

Dark Roads

CHECK IT OUT! "Over The Sea To Skye": On All Streaming Platforms. Here's a landing page: https://linktr.ee/michaelfirthsellers

The song, "Over the Sea to Skye", is dedicated to the memory of Margaret Jenny Sellers née Peterkin (1923 - 2018). The photo shows her as a teenager in the 1930s. "Over the Sea to Skye" is also streaming on YouTube, Spotify, and many other streaming sites.

At the funeral of my mother Margaret Sellers, John Alderman (her grandson) and I sang "Over the Sea to Skye", a famous Scottish folksong made even more famous by being the Outlander series theme song set to the lyrics of Robert Louis Stevenson. As she was Scottish, this seemed a very suitable choice.

The positive reaction to our rendition encouraged us to record our version of the song under the name of "The Leatherheads". Unfortunately, distance and a pandemic delayed this until March of 2022 when we eventually recorded it under the experienced eye of the amazing Sergio Aguilar, who also arranged the music and played most of the instruments.

I should at this point acknowledge the influence Bear McCreary (who recorded the Outlander theme) had on our rendition. Thanks to him I realized that the Robert Louis Stevenson poem was infinitely more suitable for a farewell to a loved one than the original Bonnie Prince Charlie lyric. Following his lead, I changed the personal pronouns to reflect we were talking about a woman. I also went further and slightly modified the lyrics to fit the occasion (a funeral),and gave it a different arrangement to suit the fact that it was being sung by two people and accompanied only by a guitar, an arrangement largely followed in this recording, apart from the introduction of a counterpoint where I'm singing the chorus of "Will Ye Go Lassie Go" (also known as "Wild Mountain Thyme"), another old Celtic folk song, and the use of more instrumentation and the use of lead guitars rather than bagpipes (the excellent Sergio Aguilar, ladies and gentlemen!).

So, please enjoy what for us was a heartfelt adios to a wonderful daughter, wife, mother, and grandmother! 

lyrics
Chorus:
Sing me a song of a lass that is gone
Sing as we say goodbye
Merry of soul, she sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye
Over the sea … to Skye

Verse 1:
Mull was astern, Rum on the port
Eigg on the starboard bow
Glory of youth glowed in her soul
Where is that glory now?

Chorus:
Sing me a song of a lass that is gone
Sing as we say goodbye
Merry of soul, she sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye

Verse 2:
Give me again all that was there
Give me the sun that shone
Give me the eyes, give me the soul
Give me the lass that's gone

Chorus: Sing me a song of a lass that is gone
(And we'll all go together)
Onward the sailors cry
(To pluck wild mountain thyme)
Merry of soul, she sailed on a day
(All around the blooming heather)
Over the sea to Skye
(Will ye go lassie go?)

Verse 3:
Billow and breeze, islands and seas
Mountains of rain and sun
All that was good, all that was fair
All that was she is gone … gone

Chorus: Instrumental

Chorus:
Sing me a song of a lass that is gone
Over the sea to Skye
Over the sea … to Skye

credits
from Sing me a Song of a Lass that is Gone, released April 2, 2022
Music: Traditional Scottish air collected in the 1870s by Anne Campbelle MacLeod
Lyrics: Robert Louis Stevenson (with changes by Bear McCreary & Michael Sellers)
Vocals: Michael Sellers; John Alderman
Guitars, keyboard, musical arrangement, & production: Sergio Aguilar
Song Cover photo: Family photograph
Cover design: Loretta Sellers Fortuny

Sing me a Song of a Lass that is Gone

Over the Sea to Skye

Buy at Bandcamp

Over The Sea To Skye - The Leatherheads UK Songwriting Contest: Five Stars: Commended Entry

Recorded live at home in "studio"

have i lost my mind?
somethings missing that i can't find.
have i lost all of my self-control?
have i lost all of my respect for the world?

have i worn apart,
and lost all the pieces of my broken heart?
in all the pieces, have i lost my soul?
empty choices tend to take their toll.

i tossed my faith in all the confusion.
i told myself that i lost my mind.
i'm 38, i'm an old man, just look at the times.
my analog days have been left behind.

put me back on track.
come tie my shoes and teach me how to act.
i tell myself that i can fix it all.
then i can't get myself up in the morning.

there must be more to this.
day to day, just to exist.
then give me something to make me numb.
better give me something to make me dumb.

i tossed my faith in all the confusion.
i told myself that i lost my mind.
i'm 38, i'm an old man, just look at the times.
my analog days have been left behind.

have i lost my touch?
couldn't tell you, i don't feel much.
my whole body starts to fall asleep,
from all the pressure that's on top of me.

have i lost my sight?
i have, i can't get nothing right.
slowly drifting waiting for the shore.
there's no one working in the lighthouse anymore.

i tossed my faith in all the confusion.
i told myself that i lost my mind.
i'm 38, i'm an old man, just look at the times.
my analog days have been left behind.

Them Days We Left Behind

Stars are visible from a room, which has lost city lights.
Children, old people, and soldiers, no one in this city anymore.

Last lovers on this planet. Distant explosion sound.

Rubble, remembrances and corpses. We are living in chaos now.
It's just the two of us in this world. One might call it romantic.

Last lovers on this planet. I want to know what love is.

What is lost can no longer be regained, only to fade away.
Only sighs may remain in history and will be passed down.

Last lovers on this planet. I sleep with you in my arms.

Everyone made love. Everyone was betrayed. 
Everyone was hurt. Nobody's left.

Last lovers on this planet

Rich Man Lyrics

This one is called Rich Man. In our last song, the poor man was trying to get by with limited funds. In this one, our hero is just enjoying life with whatever he can. He's happy just living life.

Lyrics;
I walk in old shoes
Drive on old wheels
Don't have much money
But that's not how I feel
Cause I'm a rich man

I do what I need
And that's getting me by
Got two feet on the ground
And my Head in the sky

I travel lightly
Not much to my name
But I've got all I need
Just the same
I'm a rich man

Wherever I'm at
Is where I want to be
And I'm living my life
Like this world's made for me
I'm a rich man

I have my friends
And my family
They're all the best people
And they're rich just like me


I've traveled the highways
In sunshine and rain
Slept in a boxcar
Of many a train
I've loved and lost
And I still feel the pain
But life is for living
And I can't complain

I don't need a thing
To prove my success
Nobody out there
I need to impress
But I'm a rich man

I do what I need
And that gets me by
Two feet on the ground
My head in the sky

I might walk in old shoes
and drive on old wheels
Not much money
But that's not how I feel
Cause I'm a rich man

I'm a rich man
a rich man
a rich man ...

Rich Man

Another example of Nick Would's incredible ability to foresee the future in his lyrics.

Voice in the Computer

Gritty blues rock from Louisville Ohio, USA.
Unless stated otherwise,  all  songs written, recorded and performed by Stephen Malson, solo artist from The Beards and The Bees and frontman and co writer of Bandana Dogs, Stephen has been a SoundCloud artist since 2015.

All songs are free to download.

Dark Roads

Franko Malley and the Mud Butts

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