You use some amazing textures and movement.

I love that this track is both relaxed and energetic at the same time! Thank you for what you do!

Please Hold

clarity (spirit animal)

When I appeared at the end of the 1980s as a wannabe- Klaus Kinski and "party scare" with Rimbaud and Villon texts on birthday celebrations, I always had the wonderful poem by the German cabaret artist and writer Hanns Dieter Hüsch "Ich sing` für die Verrückten" (I sing for the Crazy) in my repertoire. 
That is a long time back, but a few weeks ago I was jamming on guitar and percussion with some members of the "Berliner Irrenoffensive" as part of my voluntary work. And in this creative and crazy atmosphere this poem came to my mind again. I translated central parts of it into English and added some small language elements matching the melody and the sound of the song.   
The result was this track, with which I want to bring the deeply sensitive and timeless lyrics of Hanns Dieter Hüsch into memory and even more into the world. And with which I would like to contribute to even more understanding for the often so hard fate of people with serious mental disorders.   

Lyrics:

I Sing for the Crazy

I sing for the crazy
the sideways twisted
those who fall forward one day
unnoticed by everyone

Sit in their kitchens
not to be of use
to any world view

Who roam cities for days on end
without any sense
who throw themselves from the steeple
spice the world up with laughter

And for death in time 
ring their own bells

Those who hurry with trains
to stay nowhere too long

Who know every farewell at close hand

Because they call life goodbye

Who are hired out on the ships
and sing songs with the kids

Those who seek and never find
and disappear from the face of the earth at night

The guards are ready with jackets
in order to pack
the stray ones in the right way

Jumping friendly on roofs
and who die
In the great deserts

The skull already full
of broken pieces

The sand will soon cover all traces

Who push their way through
the raw thicket

Sore and sick rubbed by madness
who look through the jungle of all souls

All that dizziness on their back
I sing fort he crazy

I sing for the crazy
sing for the crazy
sing for them all

Sing for the crazy
sing for their peace 
sing for their souls

Aaaaaaah
sing for the crazy
sing for them all

I Sing For The Crazy

Omen

Fortunately, there are many good mothers and increasingly also good fathers in the world. However, there are exceptions to this rule. In the case of fathers, these exceptions have been seen for some time and violent fathers in particular are sanctioned more quickly and the affected children are better protected from them. 
Violent mothers are still a big taboo topic. This may have something to do with the fact that they usually express their violence more covertly and subtly than violent fathers. 
The following song is based on numerous experiences of children who have become victims of maternal violence. Representative for this is a story told by a 12-year-old boy who fled from his violent mother to his father (both parents had been separated for a long time).   

Mother Violence

Glassy eyes, frightened look
Pale face, far removed from happiness

Early adult, was never a child
Was mother's slave, repressed whirlwind

His own will was broken, forbidden to resist
Every no from him was punished 
Futile pleading

Subtle, hidden and cold
Mother Violence

Neighbors all look the other way
Just hands off the dirt

Remember, moms are just sweet
Violence never comes from mothers, the fathers are the swines
Step up to the lying club, come in, let the doubt be, don't want to be Outside, otherwise you will become the swine

Locked up in the cellar, deportation arrest.
At night on the street, so scared to death

Top-Secret blows, was always to blame
Always mental torture, day-to-day turmoil

One day he broke out from home, fled to his good father
Seemed liberated, but next morning a hangover came 

Subtle, hidden and cold
Mother Violence

Outwardly quite sweet and nice, she pulled her spider's web 
Around his exile
Youth Welfare fell for her, saw only her saint`s shine

The blind choir sang: 
Only fathers can be perpetrators, mothers are so weak and small. 

Subtle, hidden and cold
Mother Violence
Subtle, hidden and cold
Mother Violence
Subtle, hidden and cold,
Mother Violence

Mother Violence

Box of Lament

Pinwheel

Unpleasant Sensation

Human Spider

Loving someone can be the cruelest thing you ever do.

Email me at louisaaron1229@yahoo.com

Omen

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