IMRE'S SHORTIES

WHEN SNOWFLAKES FALL DOWN FROM YOUR HAIR
AND COLD WIND SNEAKS INTO THE AIR
LOOK AROUND THERE’S NOBODY THERE
EXCEPT THE GHOST OF FRED ASTAIRE

TIME FLIES SHE SAID AND WENT AWAY
JOY TURNS TO TEARS AND BLUE TO GREY
WHEN THERE’S NOT A WORD LEFT TO SAY
EXCEPT THE ONE OF YESTERDAY
THEN THERE AIN’T NO CURE LIKE THE WINTERTIME BOOZE  

WHEN YOUR NAME IS I MIGHT HAVE BEEN
A STRANGER SNEAKS INTO YOUR SKIN
WHEN THERE’S NOTHING LEFT TO BE SEEN
EXCEPT THE GHOST OF MARYLIN
THEN THERE AIN’T NO CURE LIKE THE WINTERTIME BOOZE  

WHEN SNOWFLAKES FALL DOWN FROM YOUR HAIR
AND COLD WIND SNEAKS INTO THE AIR
LOOK AROUND THERE’S NOBODY THERE
EXCEPT THE GHOST OF FRED ASTAIRE

WINTERTIME BOOZE (lyrics)

Big And Bouncy

Production & mastering by BotNikStudio2, Bottna, Sweden.

HIGH AGAINST A CLOUD

Thank you for listening to this track. This is track 01 from my recently released album. 
I realize the meaning of this might not come through in its translation.
Think:  greed and consumerism denounced in sarcastic apathy.

Produced By Brenda Doss
Mixed By John Fields
Mastered By Rareform Mastering
Song By Brenda Doss and Dave Zeiher
©2024 By Brenda Doss (BMI)

Lyrics:

You’ve got that new car smell
I like the way you look
So why should I care
If I’m your driver of the month
So let’s get down to business baby
Something new will gratify us
Satisfaction guaranteed with

More and more...

I live a toilet paper world
Of paper cups and plastic forks
I can’t recall what I did yesterday
I like a change I like it fast 
Addicted to nothing that lasts and 
God, I love this new car that has

More and more...


Everything disposable 
What of the future
Use it up and throw it all away
Getting tired of living 
In a toilet paper world
In a toilet paper world

More and more...

I want it all I want it now
Have my cake and eat it all somehow
Can’t wait to take this baby for a spin
But sooner or later 
My new car will start failing
And then he will require

More and more...

Give me more 
I want more 
Give me more 
I want more

Brenda Doss

Toilet Paper World

Dear Mr. Dream Maker

Electro fusion of classical and jazz with a melding of hip hop, reggae, and Latin beats at a chill 70 bpm 

An original composition, no AI, digital music created MIDI to DAW by a human

The Harvest Moon
Excerpt from a poem by Ted Hughes

"The flame-red moon, the harvest moon,
Rolls along the hills, gently bouncing,
A vast balloon,
Till it takes off, and sinks upward
To lie on the bottom of the sky, like a gold doubloon."

Harvest Moon is a symbol of abundance, gratitude, and the balance between light and dark of the autumn equinox. The 2025 Harvest Moon, this year’s first Supermoon of the Northern Hemisphere, reaches full illumination on Monday, October 6, 11:47 PM ET. 🌕

With props to jazz flugelhorn player and composer Chuck Mangione, RIP (November 29, 1940 – July 22, 2025)


ARTIST NOTE: I attempt (and fail) on a regular basis to satisfy an artistic curiosity — What if classical composers such as Johann Sebastian Bach wrote jazz music using a DAW with electronic drum kits? 🤔😯 Even when I fail, usually something comes out of the effort 😀
……………………………………
TEMPOS
0:01   68 bpm
0:45   70 bpm
Variations of Fm, E, Bbm, F#, Eb7, C7
DAW: Apple Logic Pro X
MIDI: Akai Professional Keyboard 
VST or E-INSTRUMENTS:
Concert Grand 
Ambient Lead 
Breathy Keys
Studio Trumpet 
Vibraphone 
SoCal Ballad Piano 
70s Funk Clav
Focus synth 
Session Strings 
Fingerstyle Electric Bass 
Deep Round Synth Bass
Minimal Techno Pattern
E-PERCUSSION
African Kit
Latin Kit 
2-Step Remix Overdrive Kit 
……………………………………

COVER ART is a surrealistic interpretation of the Harvest Moon song as original CGI by SUNNYBECK using a composite derived from original and AI-generated images rendered by the DaVinci app, then altered, retouched, and designed in Photoshop.

Thursday, Sept. 25, 2025, 11:12 PM ET 
Released on SoundCloud
2025 All Rights Reserved
.

Harvest Moon

Pour qui je compte     ( Translated following the French text )

Vidéo :   https://youtu.be/9njE-7si0d0
Texte :           Muette
Chant lead : Philippe J
Choeurs :      Liora 

Il y a des carnets
Et des mots égarés
Tout au fond des tiroirs
Et qu'on n'relit jamais
Parce qu'on est en retard
Et qu'y a toujours quelqu'un
Dont il faut prendre soin
Et ce quelqu'un, c'est jamais soi.

Dans la frileuse Flandre,
Sous les chênes et les hêtres,
Il y a ce tas de cendre
Après un feu de fête.
Au milieu, des canettes,
Des souv'nirs jetés là
Qu'on ramass' les yeux las
Pour les trier plus tard, peut-être.

Alors on compte sur ses doigts.
Un' seul' main suffit quand on s'dit :
Pour qui je compte vraiment ?

Les glacières dans le coffre,
La guitare dans sa housse,
On se serre un peu fort.
Un dernier regard pour
Les lits de mousse tassée,
Et les arbres muets
Mêm' quand l' bûch'ron les couche.
Et chacun r'part de son côté.

Alors on compte sur ses doigts.
Un' seul' main suffit quand on s'dit:
Pour qui je compte vraiment ?

Et puis quand la clairière,
S'éclaircit plus encore,
Qu'on sait par cœur le bois,
Ses pièges, ses réconforts,
Assis sur les souches
On se parle à soi-même
En dénombrant ses doigts.
On se demande : Qui m'aime ? Qui m'aime ?
Et une seule main suffit. 

For whom I count on

There are notebooks
And lost words
At the bottom of drawers
That we never reread
Because we're late
And there's always someone
We have to take care of
And that someone is never ourselves.

In chilly Flanders,
Under the oak and beech trees,
There is a pile of ashes
After a festive bonfire.
In the middle, cans,
Memories thrown away
That we pick up with weary eyes
To sort through later, perhaps.

So we count on our fingers.
One hand is enough when we ask ourselves:
Who do I really count on?

The coolers in the trunk,
The guitar in its case,
We hug a little tighter.
One last look at
The beds of packed moss,
And the silent trees
Even when the lumberjack cuts them down.
And everyone goes their separate ways.

So we count on our fingers.
One hand is enough when we say to ourselves:
Who do I really count on?

And then when the clearing
Grows even brighter,
When we know the woods by heart,
Its traps, its comforts,
Sitting on the stumps
We talk to ourselves
Counting our fingers.
We ask ourselves: Who loves me? Who loves me?
And one hand is enough.

Pour qui je compte. avec Philippe J

What you can do with 16 bars of piano MIDI notes :-)

Fragile

Word 
became flesh
He dwelt among us
became man

Body of His flesh,
through death
presents us
holy blameless

[chorus in Greek]
In the beginning was the Word
and the Word was with God
and God was the Word

Spirit
descends
remained on Him,
like a dove

Only begotten Son
Christ is king,
Before all time

No 
earthly thing
can separate us
From God’s love

[chorus]

God
Made all things
through Him and for Him
all abide

Every Good thing
is from the father
of Heavenly lights

Walk 
in the light
The way revealed 
to eternal life

Joy
Complete
born again
in spirit
for all time


The Word

Timeless Floating In Space / Paploviante Open Collaboration Offer 
Paploviante: E-Bass, Music, Composing, Arrangement, Mix and Mastering 
BPM 69/138
Painting Perchance AI
Free Download
Feel free to adding something !
If you publish it, you have to mention me in the description and title!

Timeless Floating In Space / Open Collab Offer

Irresistible, open collab invitation from Paul:
https://soundcloud.com/paploviante-and-friends/timeless-floating-in-space-open-collab-offer
Paploviante: E-Bass, Music, Composing, Arrangement, Mix and Mastering 
I added a "fluegelhorn" solo with breath controller in one go - of course there are some "tweaks" regarding mix and post-mastering - stereo width, EQ, compression etc

Timeless Floating In Space / by Paploviante / remix

La peau craque et se craquelle
Comme le limon du Nil
Catastrophe naturelle
Rayures sur le vinyle
J’étais jeune j’étais belle
Mais le temps cet imbécile
M’a fait vieille haridelle
Espèce de fossile

Le temps passe et Lapalisse
En aurait dit autant
Il froisse tout c’qui était lisse
Et moi j’en veux au temps
J’étais jeune j’étais artiste
Mais le travail des ans 
M’a salopé mon esquisse
Et m’a foutu dedans
 
La peau craque et se craquelle
Comme le limon du Nil
Catastrophe naturelle
Rayures sur le vinyle


LE VINYLE (lyrics)

J’ÉTAIS TOI 
TU SERAS MOI
ON S’EN SORTIRA
L’UN DANS L’AUTRE
UNE HISTOIRE LA NOTRE
UN MÊME CHARABIA

MOITIÉ NOIR LE CIEL MOITIÉ BLEU
UN MIROIR COUPE LA POIRE EN DEUX
J’ÉTAIS TOI TU SERAS MOI
ON S’EN SORTIRA

ON S’ENVOIE
EN L’AIR ON S’EN VA
ET ON N’EN REVIENT PAS
L’UN ET L’AUTRE
UNE BOUTEILLE LA NOTRE
UNE MÊME GUEULE DE BOIS

MOITIÉ NOIRE LA VIE MOITIÉ BLEUE
UN MIROIR POSÉ ENTRE NOUS DEUX
MAIS TAIS-TOI
JE DIS N’IMPORTE QUOI
ET ON S’EN SORTIRA


J'ÉTAIS TOI (lyrics)

J’FAIS DES COUPS DES P’TITS COUPS
ÇA M’RAPPORTE PAS BEAUCOUP
MAIS ÇA JOINT LES DEUX BOUTS
QUAND JE SUIS SANS LE SOU

J’BOIS DES COUPS DES P’TITS COUPS
A PLUS TENIR DEBOUT
ÇA M’AVANCE PAS BEAUCOUP
MAIS J’SUIS BIEN QUAND J’SUIS SOUL

J’TIRE DES COUPS DES P’TITS COUPS
J’PRENDS TES JAMBES A MON COU
ET QUAND J’EN AI MON SOUL
J’METS LES BOUTS J’METS LES BOUTS

J’PRENDS DES COUPS DES P’TITS COUPS
MATRAQUE ET NUNCHAKU
TOUT ÇA MIS BOUT A BOUT
EST-CE QUE ÇA VAUT LE COUP ?







LES P'TITS COUPS (lyrics)

TOUS CES MECS QUI SONT MORTS 
TOUTES CES GONZESSES AUSSI
JETÉS PAR-DESSUS BORD MORTS
BALAYÉS DE LA VIE

C’EST LE GAZ OU LA CORDE
OU BIEN LE RAT QUI RIT
QUAND LE VASE DÉBORDE
TOUS LES COUPS SONT PERMIS

QUAND LA SOURCE EST TARIE
C’EST LA FAUTE A PERSONNE
C’EST CHACUN POUR SA POMME
MÊME QUAND ELLE POURRIE

Y’EN A QUI TOMBENT A L’EAU
D’AUTRES QUI SE FOUTENT EN L’AIR
AU BEAU MILIEU D’UN SLOW
UN SALE MATIN D’HIVER

QUAND LA PLANCHE EST POURRIE
PERSONNE NY PEUT RIEN
NI LES ANGES NI LES SAINTS
QUAND LA SOURCE EST TARIE

TOUS CES BOUTS DU ROULEAU
QU’ON A PAS VU VENIR
ET TOUS CES SOUVENIRS 
QUI NOUS LAISSENT AU CARREAU

TOUS CES POTES ENVOLÉS
TOUTES CES PETITES AMIES
QUI REVIENNENT NOUS FRÔLER
DE LEURS AILES LA NUIT


MORTS (lyrics)

IMRE LODBROG

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