The Massacre of Glencoe (1692) is one of the most memorable event in Scottish history, particularly for clan MacDonald.
Here’s my own version that takes its part in this remembrance: based upon both a bagpipe tune and a song by Jim McLean (“The Massacre of Glencoe” released in 1963) and on some new arrangements.
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Le massacre de Glencoe (1692) est l'un des événements les plus mémorables de l'histoire écossaise, en particulier pour le clan MacDonald.
Voici ma propre version qui participe à ce souvenir : basée à la fois sur un air de cornemuse et une chanson de Jim McLean (“The Massacre of Glencoe” sortie en 1963) et sur de nouveaux arrangements.

Glencoe

PHONK

https://www.beatstars.com/beat/smoke-and-mirrors-polo-g-piano-emotional-typebeat-16666503

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cirrrcle X Loaded - Smoke And Mirrors (Polo G Typebeat 156BPM Bmin)

The prayer of the shaman to the four directions before beginning any new ceremony, tuned to 432 Hz.  

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, November 2023

Music by Evandro B Lira, Vintage Mutation
https://soundcloud.com/evandro_b_lira. 
November 2023

Words: 
I bow to the four directions. 

To the East. The red dawn air 
Sighing over the China seas, 
Blow the nomad trade winds 
Along your Silk Road, 
Your Bay of Bengal 
And swirling pyres of Varanasi, 
Through the temples of Tibet 
And the spiced Vedic lees. 
Bring Vayu's sweet sylphs 
To inspire our creativity. 

To the West. The deep Atlantic 
Heaves and tosses the merrows,
Your swirling whirlpools 
And drowned, forgotten reefs
Of mermaids and mer-men 
On high waves and farrows. 
Bring up from Lir's feet 
That purest of aqua cold. 
Sail it fast over the Irish sea 
And across the Menai roll 
To wash away our pain and fear 
And heal our troubled souls. 

To the North. Soil of our minds,
Your caves of quartz and tourmaline
And your blue melting glaciers 
Birthing borates from ice 
Under the Borealis, the stars 
Circling like glittering brides. 
Roll your satyrs and sylvestres 
Through the bleak Calanish stones 
Over the rivers, brooks and glens, 
To the oolite gold of Avalon  
It's Thirteen Treasures and gems. 

To the South. Cast your castanets 
Your smouldering salamanders, 
Your fierce Romany cantinas
Your red lipped, red hipped skies,
And your sultry, dusky sun-downers. 
When the frangipani and mimosa 
Whispers with exotic aroma 
And the heart promises ‘Soon’, 
Give us the southern comfort, 
The tango and the wild fandango 
To spark our dancing shoes. 

© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, 2023

The Medicine Wheel

SYMBIOS (with Spitfire Abbey Road One)

JEALOUS

SnakeFaced

Starting out...I used to think about
the number of days I have to survive
'fore I can jump a train...
thumb a car
or just start walking....
and if I don't leave today...
if I can't save my life this way
then...what am I doing
and I'd been dreamin of another life
where shame ain't at its core
a life where the stitches of my wounds
don't show no more
 and I hop a train...
thumb a car...and lord
I just keep walking....
turns out...leavin yesterday
just like the day before...a generation steppin
like a first tour in a foreign war
O
bodies in the street yea
bodies keeping score and its working out this way...til this lion learns to roar
and if I don't leave today
if I can't save my life this way...
then...what am I even doing
yea
hop a train thumb a car and just keep walking

SnakeFaced

Bad Choice