Synergies

For those who may be curious about the words in the song, please find hereafter a tentative english translation:

UNREALISM
These two isms that we use - optimism and pessimism - are the brushes with which we paint all our unrealism.
In the illusions of the sea of time we are paper boats, blown by the wind in this cruel world.
And we go uncertain, always deceived by our hallucinated brain, persisting in the construction of an appearance, an illusion.

This delusion we live in, imperfect, unfinished, doesn't kill us only because we have it more or less under control.
In our mind we build images from the senses. With our eyes, we delude ourselves, and we deny being lost.
And what good are so many paths for us, if in the end we are alone, in the persistence of the construction of a science that is illusion?

Irrealismo (Alan Hamilton Arrangement)

Arrival

We dove in deep space
near the speed of light
and yet life's too short
to reach out the stars.
We were not meant to survive
in that dark cold place.

So we froze every cell
every beat of the heart
and tried to beat the clock
of our fall from grace
as we dreamed of a breeze
a new planet's haze.

We travelled so far...
What's the point to believe?
Whatever we build
will crumble someday.
The shields of our ships
will turn into sand.

Deep inside we knew
that our hope was vain.
When we landed in the mist
we raised our open hands.
But all we saw was a fist,
a perplexing maze
of silence and fear.
We were not meant to come here,
and we don't understand
the arrival place.

Arrival (based on We'll Build It Again from London-DC)

It's my daughter-in-law in the photograph, listening to her grandfather storytelling. When he passed away, she wrote these words. I asked her to read them over the music I made.

I Was Not There

Here I created and sang some vocals over a nice jazz theme of Luis Lapa

É publicar ou perecer, disseram-me os cientistas.
Eu publiquei com sucesso, mas, ainda assim, eu pereço.
O sucesso é um fardo solitário.
É impossível ler e responder a milhões de seguidores.
Eu até gostaria de o ter feito,
se eu tivesse tido uma vida bem mais longa.
Mas eu agora estou a afogar-me numa praia apinhada de gente.
Todos têm a certeza que alguém virá salvar-me,
e, por isso, ninguém vem.
Perco a força, vou ao fundo,
e assim me entrego ao meu baptismo final,
de olhos bem abertos,
para ver a dança solene dos sacos de plástico.

Eles são todos milhões de inúteis seguidores...

Sozinho Na Multidão (Based on Flufal by Luis Lapa)

Besides the original instrumental version, check also the older and beautiful vocal version of Annie Smart that she created on a much more sentimental tone: https://soundcloud.com/annie-smart-1/dont-say-goodbye-by-david-dunham-and-annie-smart

DON'T SAY GOODBYE

In the flatness of your mind,
in the slamming of the door,
goodbye is a platitude.
But the world is round, baby.
The geodesic you took 
is already bringing you back.

So never say goodbye.
It's a lie.
Shame on me.
Shame on you.
And it can even get worse
if time is closed too.

In the flatness of our souls,
in the seclusion of our pride,
goodbye seems a certitude.
But love will come around, baby.
It tends to find a way,
a path to make our lifes anew.

Don't Say Goodbye (Based on David Dunham Instrumental - feat. Debra Buesking)

I wrote some lyrics for the beautiful "A Winter's Tale" instrumental made by Time 2 Relax (https://soundcloud.com/time-2-relax). The main vocal was nicely performed by Daniel Armada. 

A Winter's Tale

Once there was a hot Summer
with endless choices.
Now it's just a Winter's tale
where snow dampens our voices.

As we synchronize
the silence of our footsteps,
walking together in loneliness,
now tears are freezing on your face, 
and now tears are freezing on my face.
For now you understand
that our love is chemistry
slowing down
to some damned function of Kelvin.

A Winter's Tale (based on Time 2 Relax instrumental)

I created and sang this text and vocals myself, but a female singer with a warm soft voice would be ideal for this track. Any suggestions?
 
** The Glass Forest **

Now I need  to thank you for this most pleasant evening
in that charming restaurant,
and I agree: Serrated knifes are just perfect for steaks.

Really? What makes you think this road is creepy?
It's dark, for sure,
but it's just a twenty minutes walk to town.
Oh, yes! I've heard about the brutal killings,
the stabbed corpses.
I read the news.
They suspect there are two killers, actually. 

That's peculiar... Do you really want to have right now 
a glass of red wine in this cold dark forest?
Well, why not?
Girls enjoy surprises, you know...

This is a fascinating situation.
You see, I saw you stealing a knife when we left the restaurant,
and I saw you hide it in your jacket.
Now, guess what...
I stole a knife, too.

The Glass Forest (JFC Vocals over Debra Buesking track)

This is a much more flamengo-style arrangement of Lavemonos Los Dientes, kindly created by Dan after he added a guitar to the original arrangement.

Yo queria besarte locamente, sentir la eternidad en cada instante,
el espacio infinito localmente, en cada rincon ver tu semblante,
mirar tu semblante.
Ni todo es capaz de enamorarse, ni de todo se enamora el capaz.
Pero en este momento transcendente,
en que sueno besarte a cada instante,
una sola cosa es importante:
Si nos vamos a besar, lavemonos los dientes.
Ni todo es capaz de enamorarse, ni de todo se enamora el capaz.
Yo queria besarte localmente.
Si nos vamos a besar, lavemonos los dientes.

Lavemonos Los Dientes (Dan Van den Berg Arrangement)

Suivant l'idée du titre original de Frank Dana, j'ai écrit et chanté un texte au sujet des boulevards.

Les boulevards, à l'origine,
c'était tout juste des remparts
qui protegeaient le coeur des villes.

Mais quand ils ont rasé les murs
qui entouraient l'ancien Paris
ils ont creé des avenues,
les boulevards qu'on voit d'ici
tous pleins de fleurs, de bienvenues
pour les amants, les enemis,
et même les envahisseurs.

Après la peur et les soucis,
tous mes remparts ont dépéri.
Tu peux venir briser mon coeur,
brulêr mon sang. Je t'aime à vie.

Driving the Blvd (Based on Frank Dana instrumental)

LE RISQUE
 
Mes chères mademoiselles, ecoutez, écoutez...
C'est un peu recherché, mais il faut distinguer risque et incertitude.
On prend des risques quand on connait déjà quelles sont les probabilités de se faire gifler.
On parle d'incertitude quand on ne connait même pas les chances de succès.
Mes chères damoiselles, je voudrais vous souffler bien des choses à l'oreille.
Mais je ne suis même pas pas sûr si c'est risqué.

Ma chère madame, écoutez, écoutez...
Il me faudra décider sous risque ou incertitude.
Je prendrais un risque si je savais évaluer les chances de me faire tuer.
Mais, dans l'incertitude, je ne sais même pas quelles sont mes probabilités de décès.
Et pourtant, madame, je viendrai vous souffler bien des choses à l'oreille,
car je suis tout à fait sûr que vous le désirez.

Le Risque (Based on Gérald Olivieri Soundtrack)

Adios. Au revoir.
En fermant les yeux, ce sera la lumière,
ou peut-être le noir.
C'était pas de ma faute que je fuisse né.
Mon temps terminé,
j'embrasse aujourdhui une certaine angoisse,
mais aussi - et sutout - la curiosité.

Adios JFC(Based on Gerald Olivieri Instrumental)

I wish I could find the words to sing my father's name.
But words seem short of meaning
and meaning so short of time
to explain eternity.

From the very first beginning,
the oldest common ancestor,
life has clinged to this rock,
the third nearest to our Sun.

And, as life came out of silence
and slowly came to existence,
the blind future was replaced
by dreams that wanted to be.

And so we're born out of miracles,
out of countless near misses,
a mix of nature and nurture,
of lucky chances and choices.

Now I wish this Autumn leaves 
could bring forth my father's voice
to bring me some words of wisdom
in this world bound to extinction.

For, when he took the decision
to bring up a family,
he added a few more notes
to a timeless symphony.

And, in each of the precious moments
that my father played with me,
I knew that we were repeating
the chords of eternity.

I Wish (JFC singing Over Debra's Piano Piece)

Christopher Columbus first came to Portugal to ask for some ships for his idea of reaching India sailing west. But the estimate he presented to the Portuguese court of the distances to reach Cipango and China were clearly wrong, and the request was refused. It was suicide. As he stumbled upon the Antilles, Columbus found his salvation and glory. But he never acknowledged that he was wrong, and that's why the new continent was not called Colombia. Amerigo Vesppucci wrote a popular book about the new territory, which was eventually named after him. 

PARTIR

Pour arriver, il faut partir.
I faut rêver d'une quelque part,
parfois envers et contre tous,
tout enivré de faux espoirs.

Il y a d'étonnantes découvertes 
qui nous attendent à l'horizon
sur les chemins pris par des fous
les Christophe Colomb qui risquent tout
cherchant la gloire d'inouïs voyages
et les richesses, et les mirages
pour étancher leur soif de faire
pour s'affranchir d'être néant.

Mais je ne pars pas, moi.
Je ne suis pas fou...
Je fais partie des sots bien sages
qui restent au port bien prudemment
pour éviter tous les naufrages,
pour échapper aux coups de vent.

Je peux vous dire, prenant de l'âge,
que j'ai vécu sans rien trouver,
que j'ai vieilli pour rien du tout.
Tout, sauf l'ennui et le regret
d'avoir raté la nef des fous.

LEAVING

To get somewhere, we need to leave.
We have to dream about some place,
sometimes against all odds,
inebriated with false hopes.

There are amazing discoveries
that await us on the horizon
on the paths taken by madmen
the Christopher Columbus who risks everything
seeking the glory of unheard voyages
and the riches, and the mirages,
to quench their thirst for doing something
to free themselves from being nothing.

But I'm not leaving.
I'm not crazy...
I am one of those wise fools
who very cautiously stay in the harbor
to avoid all shipwrecks,
to keep away from the gusts of wind.

I can tell you, now that I'm old,
that I have lived without a finding,
that I grew old without a purpose.
Nothing, except the boredom and the regret
of having missed the ship of fools.

Partir JFC (Based on Gérald Olivieri Soundtrack)

The title "Ballad for Alma" reminded me of an episode in the Book of Mormon, where the son of a presiding high priest went among the people, telling them to disbelief his father. Here I imagined what could be the father thoughts, with a small meditation on the nature of hope, faith, and charity.

BALLAD FOR ALMA

No one wants to be alone,
either in bliss or sorrow.
Angels above invite.
Demons from hell entice.

In the great fight for the souls
you chose to disbelieve it all,
join the skeptics, praise  the world,
delighted to play with fire.

Still I hope you'll come back home.
Hope is belief and desire.
New hearts are given to some.
Beliefs are our choice alone.

And then there's faith.
Faith is more than wishfull thinking.
Faith is hope with revelation
from the subtle mighty voice
that can burn, but cannot lie.

Thus I trust that voice to warn you.
Then you'll see and then you'll cry.
From the deepness of despair,
in the dire and lonely night,
all will seem beyond repair.
But what I told you will come to mind.
And then you'll remember the name you should call,
and it's going to be allright.

There's no charity in darkness:
It's a feature of the light.
Demons from hell entice,
but love will always invite.

Ballad For Alma JFC (Based on Neno J. guitar piece)

Here I just used a few passages from the Book of Isaiah, chapter 14, sung in Italian over the Francesco and Rosin beautiful collaboration. This powerful chapter in the Old Testament compares the king of Babylon to Lucifer, the fallen angel. In the troubled history of mankind we were never short of kings of Babylon. Perhaps someday...

Il soggiorno dei morti si agita per te, per venire a incontrarti al tuo arrivo.
Tutti prendono la parola e ti dicono:
Anche tu dunque sei diventato debole come noi?

Come mai sei caduto dal cielo,
astro mattutino, figlio dell'aurora?
Come mai sei atterrato,
tu che calpestavi le nazioni?

Tu dicevi in cuor tuo: Lo salirò in cielo,
innalzerò il mio trono al di sopra delle stelle di Dio.

Invece ti hanno fatto discendere nel soggiorno dei morti,
nelle profondità della fossa!
Sotto di te sta un letto di vermi,
e i vermi sono la tua coperta.

It's Almost Dawn JFC (over Francesco Cartocci Instrumental ft. Rosin Dust)

The North Sea was the stage for many violent battles, with lots of human losses. What would an orphan think, standing on the cliffs?

Written in French, of course. No other language offers six different meanings to the sound of "on sent la mer d'ici", all of them relevant to the situation.


** MER DU NORD **

Je suis venu de loin pour écouter le vent.
Penché sur les falaises, d'ici je me comprends.
D'ici je me comprends.
Ma mère m'a dit qu'il fallait pas venir,
qu'il vaut mieux oublier.
Ça sert à quoi de vouloir rebatir 
les ombres du passé?
Ma mère a tort. Ma mère a tort. 
Il me fallait venir.
Ici je me comprends. Je sens mon corps frémir.
De ces falaises
on voit la Mer du Nord.
Et je viens aujourdhui
pour contempler les vagues qui déferlent au vent
sous les nuages gris.
La Mer du Nord
La Mer du Nord
On sent la mer d'ici,
les cuirassés qui brulent encore,
coulés au fond des nuits,
les bombardiers touchés par les chasseurs
et piégés dans l'oubli.
La mer des morts.
La mer des morts.
Mon père était parmis
les mariniers partis au nom des forts 
et jamais revenus.
Je suis venu pour boire cet océan
et m'enivrer de lui.

Ma mère m'a dit qu'il fallait pas venir,
qu'il fallait pas venir.
Ma mère a tort. Ma mère a tort.
Ils sont tous bien ici.
La mer des morts.
La mer des morts.
Mon père était parmis
les mariniers partis au nom des forts 
et jamais revenus.
Je suis venu pour boire cet océan
et m'enivrer de lui,
m'enivrer de lui...

Mer Du Nord (based on CreaFlow Warm North Wind)

** Discussing the Menu ** 

Discussing the menu will never nourish our bodies. 
Shall we stop talking for a while?
Just point your finger to show me where the meal is,
and I'll go and feed myself. 

Yes, I know...
Pointing fingers can be rude.
But that's collateral damage of a basic cognitive activity.
For many words we use, pointing precedes meaning. 
We can point at the sea and say: "Look! The sea!" 
And thus we can assign names to the beasts, the trees and the stars. 
That's the miracle of pointing. 
Somehow we understand that we are naming a thousand  things, 
not giving a thousand names to the stupid pointing finger.

And thus, as we understand each other, 
we are both edified while rejoicing together.
Joy is the secret prize of sharing,
a prize beyond words or the ringing sound of bells.
A wordless no bell prize.   

And there's so much more to understand
than the things we can perceive 
with our feeble ears and naked eyes...
Did you know?
Gobi camels shed tears
when they are sung 
ancient Mongolian lullabies.

Discussing The Menu (Based on Yann Kifer's Bella track)

Soldiers of fortune, with a patriotic sense of debt,
take your credit cards and follow me.
Let us buy what we don't need with the money we don't have.
Let us eat and drink and laugh and be merry.
Alarm bells are ringing.
Don't worry, be happy.
Just keep singing in the drain.

Singing In The Drain (feat. Debra Buesking Piano)

This song illustrates the virtues of creative synergy. The instrumental basis was first created by Tiago Cadete and Raul Pires. I then created the text and the melodies that were sang over the instrumental basis. The end result is far superior to what we could do by ourselves.

ASSALTADO PELA DÚVIDA

Esta noite fui assaltado pela dúvida.
Quando acordei de manhã, notei o desaparecimento de coisas
que agora já não tenho a certeza de alguma vez ter tido.

É preocupante...

Disseram-me que o alarme disparou de madrugada,
e matou três indivíduos, decerto inocentes,
que rondavam as portas do esquecimento.

Agora, os vizinhos acusam-me de ser homicida...

Homicida, eu...
Como posso eu ser homcida?! 
Eu, que sou português,
que sou contra os canhões...

Mas, enfim, tudo é possível.
Até os apóstolos perguntavam "Mestre, serei eu?"
quando Cristo lhes anunciou que, no meio deles, havia um traidor...
Quanto mais culpado serei eu, que já não sei o que sou...

Busco algum consolo nos livros que atestam a minha nobre linhagem.
Mas noto que já nem os mosquitos gostam do meu sangue.
Preferem as veias dos ébrios da noite.

Eu anseio por construir uma casa de certezas,
com grades nas janelas,
e todas as saídas de emergência seladas com muros de dogmatismo.

Mas, se nada entra e nada sai, será que eu existo?
Quem contempla uma face, se não há um interface?

Posso sempre dizer que faço, apenas porque faço.
Mas, se o meu fazer surgiu do nada, onde é que houve uma escolha?
E, se o que fiz surgiu de leis imutáveis, o que foi que eu escolhi?
Onde é que se esconde a minha própria vontade?

Não sei...

Não sei se existe escolha quando contemplo a minha mão que escreve.
A linha que agora escrevo, não sei de onde é que veio.
Talvez estivesse escrito que eu um dia a escreveria.
Ou talvez exista no meu âmago um macaco cego
que anda a brincar com o teclado da minha alma vazia.
Alguns até darão a isso o nome pomposo de inspiração...

Tanta dúvida irrita-me, e é desgastante. 
Sinto que todas as respostas me ultrapassam pela direita,
num universo surdo e arrogante,
onde as galáxias colidem porque ninguém respeita as prioridades.
Todos os deuses do universo deixaram-me sozinho, e com os pneus furados,
na estrada sem multas dum vazio legal...

Vou ter que ir a pé.

Tento chegar a algum lado
gastando as solas dos neurónios perplexos..
É como se avançasse num lago de mistérios profundos:
Eu ainda tenho pé,
o pé é que já não chega ao fundo.

Escrevo o que penso, mas não sei se penso o que escrevo.
Sinto que é inútil correr atrás dos pensamentos, mas vou correndo...
Até acendi uma vela, para que tudo corresse bem.
Como sou um desastrado, incendiei a casa.
Agora tenho que ir chamar os bombeiros.
Por isso eu abro a porta da rua,
respiro fundo a esperança de estar vivo,
e corro atrás do tempo.

Só não entendo bem porquê.

E duvido que alguém saiba.

Assaltado Pela Dúvida

Instrumental Tiago Cadete. Letra e Vocais José Castro

ENCONTRO EM CANCUN 

Logo depois de aterrar, e ao sentir-me sufocar, entendi qual a razão porque os gringos com dinheiro vão para Cancun em Fevereiro. Mas eu não escolhera a data. Quando saí para jantar, as multidões de turistas andavam de bar em bar. Buscavam com quem dançar, nas discotecas estroboscópicas de jovens pouco vestidas.
Como eu não estou no mesmo plano dos vendidos aos prazeres de arrotar em mexicano, entrei num supermercado para comprar uns sanduíches. E, na hora de pagar, juntei-me a uma longa fila. Impossível não notar os relâmpagos ao longe, e a jovem que, à minha frente, transpirava das axilas.
Talvez farta de esperar, talvez farta de estar só, perguntou-me o que eu fazia naquele mundo sublunar. Respondi: "Não vim de férias. Eu vim só apresentar o meu humilde cartaz sobre máquinas com ética e consciência moral, no décimo quinto Congresso de Vida Artificial."
Ela ficou a pensar. Olhou em volta a folia. Pensou que eu estava a brincar, e riu-se da ironia.

Encontro Em Cancun (based on Tiago Cadete instrumental)

I've been making music with Pedro Castro since 1972. At the time, we created the alternative rock band Petrus Castrus. The music I'm placing here are just the home recordings of ongoing projects and ideas. I created a few playlists (Inéditos) according to language (PO - Portuguese; EN - English; SP - Spanish; FR - French; IT - Italian), and also for concept albums (Três Jardins). There are two long tracks (Mediterrâneo and Isaías) for full concept albums. A playlist called Synergies gathers the collaboration projects with other musicians in the fantastic SoundCloud community.

Petrus Castrus edited records can be found on Spotify and Soundcloud. See the Facebook Petrus Castrus page for more details, including comments about the recordings uploaded here. 

We are both amateur musicians, i.e. music lovers. As for me, I'm just an electrical engineer with a master in AI that really loves creating music and use it to share ideas. That is why all tracks include lyrics or texts.

Enjoy!

Synergies

José F Castro - JFC (Petrus Castrus)