Lyrics:
---------
Sitting in my kitchen, never really care what you do
By sitting in my kitchen and never caring for what you do
You cannot really call me out unless I call for your too

Come into my kitchen, help yourself a piece of my pie
Come into my kitchen, help yourself a piece of my pie
If I don't get in yours, it's alright, I don't care for why 

Do ya get a lotta booty for cramming that opinion in?
Do ya get a lotta booty for cramming that opinion in?
Well, you'd get with the fool if she'll put her ends to your will

Giant halls and golden pots
D'you really think I want the lot?
If your kitchen's really worth
Put your money where your mouth is
The pot is boiling quite alright
If I don't put out now will you hold a gun to my head?

Your god's alright for now
But what about tomorrow?
He'll shine by your rules
Upon all the fools you loathe and accuse



If your hard-hearted honey never giveth in to your loss
If your hard-hearted honey never giveth in to your loss
Set her up for you rally, make sure there's a bent for your cause

Sitting in my kitchen doesn't make me better than you
Staying in my kitchen doesn't make me better than you
But keeping out of yours, not trying to call you out on it do

Giant halls and golden pots
D'you reall think I want the lot
If your kitchen's really worth
Put your money where your mouth is
The pot is smouldering quite alright
Do help yourself but don't hold a gun to my head

Your god's alright for now
But what about tomorrow?
He'll shine by your rules
Upon all the fools you loathe and accuse
-----------------------------------------------------
© Fredrik Andersson, 2015

Kitchen Stomp

Lyrics:
---------
What a lovely summer morn
What a day to get being born
Little did I know that I would
spend my years to come by tiny hours
Still I'm lucky to be born
On such a lovely summer morn


And then by noon she crossed my flight
Around the meadow by the resting of the willow
We could dwell inside the grove
Shading from the sun above
Can I see you here again tonight?


She was hours ahead of me
Told me of the things that be
We flew toward the sun
We settled down to watch the evening come
I'm so lucky being alive
With such a lovely lady fly


And then the evening crossed our flight
So she told me to be waiting by the willow
She'd be back within a while
And she left me with a smile
Saying we would fly together through the night


But then the sun turned out its light
And I'm left there waiting, weeping like the willow
For this hour yesterday
She was greeted with her day
She won't be back again to see the night


She has died and so will I
By the untimely morning light
One life is not enough for a mayfly

But it was a lovely morn
------------------------------------------------
© Fredrik Andersson 2015

Mayfly

Once a talker of my schemes
Once believing in pushing for peace
Information, unaltered and straight
Guaranteed to put people at ease

Yeah, I thrived on the thought of rebellion
That an open-source language was king
That our talking fed mutual gain
For then I believed in communication


They taught me how to kill my darlings
They taught me of critical thought
That a message is only completed
When arrived, comprehended and bought

So I killed her, my muse of ideals
In the interest of mutual view
Understanding won't show anyway
But once I believed in communication


To what ends should I be clear now
When those ends are aligned to you will?
To what use is information
When the ambition to heed it is nil?

If I told you, would you be listening?
Or just seek to approve your conception?
And you'd think we'll reach an agreement
For once I believed in communication as well


Every time you're asking for clarity
With an attention span of a bird
Turning coats or remain in the sand
Where no off-sounding voice can be heard

Come back when you got something to say
Not just hung up on rambling call
Make your notion last more than one day
Or I won't believe in your communication at all


Yeah, you want me to say what I mean
As if you would be listening that long
As if insight would grow from candor
As if people would gather in song

And I know now what's in your head
How your insight is in what I spell
I can't blame you for wanting it said
For once I believed in communication as well


Yeah, you want me to be available
As if all that you say would remain
To sift out the truth from your nonsense
Just to find out how fast it will wane

But I want you to believe in this song
It's not words in which I have no faith
It's the sender, the channel, the reader
For once I believed in communication as well

Once I Believed In Communication

She got off to the image of her sordid cunt
with an apt justifiction of to have a little fun
With a wink of her eye she got down his guard
as he claimed full emancipation for woman to get laid
Lay lady lay is their tune of the night
The times are not a-changing yet

"Throw my sister a kiss in the sleepy village green
 where she ended up to show the rooted inbreds how to be
 Still a bit touch-and-go in the way she reads your kind
 Though dressed up in a rhetoric coat to cover up her slow-witted mind 
 She said I musn't be with that joker from our town
 He'd only let me down"

And then by her bedtime
she wound up her Derridean zine
that went "lalalalala"

With a glass full of ice and fake glass in his eyes
he put forth indecisive propositions to a rhyme
Careful not to be frowned on for his thirst for juice
he pulls a queer to be sure he's way above you and the ones who have to choose
But still she's joining in with the usual wooden route
He's stuck with meatwarm substitute

On the seminar today she would fill her head
Patting backs, highing fives at how everything that's said
is a quote of the realm where she's kept at a loss
She had finally confirmed that she's under a thumb that should be overturned
And overturn she will on the bedside with a friend
The one for whom she'd overbend

And then for her soundtrack
she wound up with her favourite band
that went "lalalalala"

In the nude gallery in which she openly scorns
she dressed down to exhibit decadence that she adored
In the hip metropolitan bisexual crowd
she made the initiation as the fragile dandelion standing proud
And at the fancy glass-eye she scored apologies
by flashing him a stockinged tease

She tried hard to make sense of her reality
And it's filtered through the notion that it's only what you feel
So with Kant in her larynx and Bourdieux in her womb
she would bleed on the show to which she secretly canoodled on her room
So not to be displayed to her mental dissonance
she kept to primal quiet bums

And then by the morning
she wound up her thoughts and conclusions
that went "lalalalala"

She wound up

I got a monkey on my back and he's mourning for me every day
I got a monkey on my back and he's mourning for whatever I say
I got a monkey and a beggar keep telling me who earns my pay

I'd get a dollar for my baby if she'd only let me let her be
I'd get a dollar for my baby to keep her dignity for to see
I bet she's never been around someone acknowledging her esprit

If I'm in trouble or am down, it's not because who I am
But I could take on this town, that is because who I am
If I'm to listen to the folly I'd seetle for the one night stand

Talkin' MWP, talkin' how I have to live the decree
Talkin' MWP, channeling the monkey mentality
I'm sorry if I let you down and never pissed upon your oak tree

If you see my monkey man, don't trust him that you know where I'm at
What you see is just a monkey, no telling where I will lay my hat
I guess I owe it all to him, that you're still lying tied up on your back

Girl, if you tell me you're in trouble just because who I am
Without a bundle of sticks then I guess I'm part of the plan
And if you listen to the folly, you're worthy of the one night stand

Talkin' MWP Blues

There was no first in what we did
Apart from our goodbye
I'm surer every day
I got to make her mine some way

And though it never will return
True love will never heed
The grace of novelty
She'll always be that dawn to me

Bless the day that I greet her sunrise
The morning I dry the rain in her meadows
Green as the way she knows
That I will await her final toll

The glow she's radiating high
The beauty in her smile
Can wipe the world away
Along with the days that brought her nigh

And when the night is coming down
I watch her in her sleep
I need no other dream
Now she's the only dawn for me

Archipelago

Lady of the Dawn

One-man-induced folkrock, basically.

The main concept was and is to write and record songs with simple enough arrangements to be performed live with just myself on the guitar (or mandolin). After being harbouring several projects and bands that have called for a full-scale band lineup, I finally decided to launch what best could be described as a folk rock act simply because of its inherent simplicity of arrangement. So, in lack of a better name, I hereby dub my minstrel alter ego Fred Rand in honour of one of my past login ID:s at a former job, at least until I come up with a better moniker.

Oh, by the way, please do check out my regular band Stratus: https://soundcloud.com/stratusinfo