Our 'Good Morning from ...' Guest Mix series will explore different artists from all around the world as they take us on a journey with their distinct and unique sounds that they'll showcase to represent their taste, surroundings and upbringing.

For the very first time in our beautiful series around the world, we’re setting foot in a place where seaside cliffs plunge into the water, dramatic scenery compliments the sky, and the surrounding areas come alive at night with every shade of colour… today we’re taking you to Uluwatu in Bali. 

Today’s storyteller is no stranger to this beautiful island.. @pippiciez sees this Southeast Asian paradise as a second home, with frequent visits throughout each year, so he’s the perfect guide to take you on a journey with us.

Let his story take you to the early morning sunrise on the white sand beaches of the Bukit Peninsula, where cliffside cocktails and thievish monkeys are commonplace… Good Morning from Uluwatu
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- Pippi Ciez -
  Soundcloud: @pippiciez
Facebook: fb.com/PippiCiez
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EWBO Facebook : www.bit.ly/ewboldn   
EWBO Youtube : www.youtube.com/ewbotube

Pippi Ciez : Good Morning from Uluwatu

Across the Mountains High is a heavy metal anthem forged in fire, storm, and steel. Nearly six minutes of thunderous riffs, dark verses, soaring choruses, and a haunting saxophone edge — all driven by the spirit of defiance, struggle, and triumph.

The song is inspired by a moment of sheer willpower carved into history:
In 218 BC, at the dawn of the Second Punic War, Hannibal Barca, commander of Carthage, led an army of thousands — including war elephants — on a brutal march across the Alps to strike at the heart of Rome. It was a move no one thought possible: treacherous peaks, freezing winds, enemy tribes, starvation, and death at every turn. But Hannibal pressed on. Not for glory, but vengeance. Not for safety, but legacy. He lost half his army, but the other half descended into Italy like a storm — and changed the course of history.

Across the Mountains High channels that spirit — the raw, unstoppable force of choosing the hard path, defying the odds, and leaving your name written in blood and ice.

-------------

Across the Mountains High
Publich date: 29.09.2025
Blue Bathtub
Lyrics: Peter Risberg

-------------
Across the Mountains High

[Verse 1]
Through frozen winds we carve our way,
A rising dawn, a blood-red day.
The earth will shake, the sky will roar,
Our fire burns forevermore.

[Verse 2]
The path is cold, the climb is steep,
The vow we make, the vow we keep.
The steel of will, the flame of pride,
No storm can break the force inside.

[Pre-Chorus]
The snow is red, the sky is black,
No turning now, we won’t look back.

[Chorus]
Across the mountains high,
We chase the endless sky!
Through fire, through the storm,
A legend will be born!

Raise your voice tonight,
The flames will light the fight!
Through shadows, through the pain,
The world shall know our name!

[Verse 3]
The lion falls, the eagle screams,
We carve our fate from shattered dreams.
A road of stone, a crown of flame,
The world shall tremble at our name.

[Verse 4]
The night is long, the cold is near,
But steel and fire erase the fear.
With thunder steps the earth shall quake,
The stars bear witness to our wake.

[Chorus]
Across the mountains high,
We chase the endless sky!
Through fire, through the storm,
A legend will be born!

Raise your voice tonight,
The flames will light the fight!
Through shadows, through the pain,
The world shall know our name!

[Bridge]
Through endless snow, through endless pain,
The crimson path shall bear our name.
No crown of stone, no wall of steel,
Can break the oath, the fire we feel.

[Final Chorus]
Across the mountains high,
We chase the endless sky!
Through fire, through the storm,
A legend will be born!

Raise your voice tonight..

Across the mountains high,
The stars ignite the sky!
Through fire, through the storm,
A legend will be born!

Raise your voice tonight,
The flames will light the fight!
Through shadows, through the pain,
The world shall know our name!

-------------

© 2025 Blue Bathtub. Lyrics by Peter Risberg. Music and vocals generated with Suno AI (PRO License), under commercial license.
All rights reserved. No part of this recording may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without permission.

Across The Mountains High

© 1997 – 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson. All Rights Reserved. 
Unauthorized duplication or reproduction in any form is strictly prohibited.

I’m always drawn back to the streets where I’ve been,
The houses, the whispers, the ghosts in between.
A brownstone waits in the East Seventies’ rain,
Where memories linger and echo again.
It held my first room, with its attic decay,
Red velvet chairs where the sunlight would fray.
A color of tobacco stain ran through the wall,
And Rome hung in prints down the narrow hall.

There was one small window and a rusted grate,
A fire escape staring down at fate.
Yet my spirit rose when I felt that key,
Cold in my hand but it welcomed me.
It wasn’t much, yet it felt like mine,
The first place I’d cross that sacred line.
My books were there, my pencils too,
Dreams of a writer just coming through.

Oh, that room was dark but it carried my flame,
I whispered my stories and carved my name.
Every night I swore I’d be,
The one who’d write eternity.

Never thought I’d write of Holly’s grace,
Her laughter still haunts that lonely place.
Didn’t think I’d ever recall her eyes,
Till Joe Bell called through gray October skies.
He ran that bar around the bend,
A stubborn heart, an honest friend.
His voice came rough through the telephone line,
He said, “Get here fast, it’s time, it’s time.”

I took a cab through the thunder’s fall,
Past mirrored windows and iron walls.
Dreamed she’d be there, her shadow near,
But only silence filled my ear.
Joe Bell was there, the mirrors old,
The rain outside turned brass to gold.
He poured one glass, said, “She’s gone again,”
And the jukebox hummed a requiem.

He talked of Holly like she’d just gone out,
Said he still took messages, still kept count.
He spoke of her smile, her reckless run,
Of ice hockey games and a Weimaraner’s fun.
He’s got his fixations, they never fade,
Our Gal Sunday and songs Broadway made.
He swears he’s kin to Gilbert or Sullivan’s rhyme,
But the truth is he’s married to time.

That bar’s a shrine with its mirrors cracked,
Two reflections, one looking back.
Neon avoided the window’s glare,
Only the rain painted color there.
I sat and listened, the moment froze,
The ghost of Holly brushed my clothes.
She was there in the hum of the venting heat,
In the tapping rhythm of New York’s beat.

Oh Holly, girl of cigarette smoke,
Your laughter still drifts through the words I wrote.
You ran from men, from love, from blame,
But freedom’s just another name.
If I could see you one more night,
I’d tell you your wings still catch the light.
Though you vanished beyond the dawn’s divide,
Your song still rings down Lexington side.

Now years have gone, the city’s changed,
Brownstones cleaned, the ghosts rearranged.
Yet every time the seasons turn,
I feel that same old fire burn.
The key still cold, the dream still young,
The same old stories left unsung.
And somewhere high above the town,
Her spirit drifts and won’t come down.

So here’s to rooms with broken floors,
To lonely hearts and open doors.
To every soul who dares belong,
To every writer’s first-born song.
I’ll walk those blocks till memories fade,
Where shadows fall and dreams are made.
And when my name dissolves in stone,
I’ll still be singing, not alone.

I’m always drawn back, I always will be,
To that brownstone dream that set me free.
The rain still falls, the typewriter hums,
And Holly’s ghost forever strums.
Down Lexington, where echoes blend,
Some stories never find their end.


© 1997 – 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized duplication or reproduction in any form is strictly prohibited.



Breakfast After Tiffany's - Version 3

© 2025 All Rights Reserved — Lance Thomas Davidson

Canzone dell’Aurora che Ritorna – in stil rinascente

è una composizione poetico-musicale interamente creata nel 2025. Pur essendo un’opera contemporanea, è concepita per evocare l’atmosfera lirica del XVI e XVII secolo, richiamando le immagini di luce, alba, viaggio interiore e devozione amorosa proprie della tradizione poetica italiana. Il testo adotta la struttura delle antiche canzoni e stanze, guidando il lettore in un percorso in cui lo sguardo dell’amata diventa aurora, bussola, conforto e porto sicuro.
La narrazione attraversa mari, fiumi, valli e cieli sereni — paesaggi simbolici della trasformazione dell’anima quando incontra una bellezza che consola e rischiara ogni ombra.
La composizione è volutamente ampia e “respirata”, riflettendo la musicalità distesa e ornamentale delle forme poetiche rinascimentali. Pur impiegando termini, cadenze e suggestioni ispirate al linguaggio del Rinascimento, l’opera riconosce esplicitamente la propria natura moderna e non pretende alcuna autenticità storica.
Il risultato è un omaggio allo spirito del passato, reinterpretato attraverso una sensibilità pienamente contemporanea.

© 2025 All Rights Reserved — Lance Thomas Davidson

SYNOPSIS (English)

“Canzone dell’Aurora che Ritorna – in stil rinascente” is a poetic–musical composition created entirely in 2025. Although modern in origin, it is intentionally crafted to evoke the lyrical atmosphere of the 16th and 17th centuries, drawing upon imagery of light, dawn, inner pilgrimage, and devoted affection. The text employs the traditional architecture of Italian canzoni and stanzas, guiding the listener through a journey in which the beloved’s gaze becomes dawn, compass, solace, and safe harbor.
The narrative moves through landscapes of sea, river, valley, and serene sky — symbolic terrains reflecting the soul’s transformation when touched by a beauty that comforts and dispels every shadow.
The piece is deliberately expansive, mirroring the extended musical phrasing and ornate character associated with Renaissance poetic forms. While it incorporates vocabulary and cadences inspired by historical Italian diction, the composition openly affirms its contemporary nature and does not claim any historical authenticity.
The result is a work that honors the spirit of the past while expressing emotions firmly rooted in the present.

© 2025 All Rights Reserved — Lance Thomas Davidson


Canzone dell’Aurora che Ritorna – simulating ancient Italian made in 2025

Bye Bye Blackbird - Copyright 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson

In the fading cold of the late twentieth century, a legend prepared for its last descent.
Forged from titanium and flown on the edge of space, the once top secret supersonic jet Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird outran dawn, outran thunder, outran every shadow raised against it.
But as the Cold War cooled and the Iron Curtain was about to make its final close,
the Blackbird was officially slated for retirement in March of 1998 and subsequently it was retired from the U.S. Air Force on January 26, 1990,
and flown for the final time by NASA on October 9, 1999,
it left behind a sky quieter, slower, and somehow wider in its absence.
This… is its farewell.

[Verse 1]
In the chill of a waning age,
a midnight shadow left the stage.
Born in silence, built for flight,
the Blackbird ruled the edge of night.
But when the Cold War’s fire began to fade,
and old divisions slowly unmade,
time spoke softly, calling free,
Rest now, watcher of sky and sea.

[Chorus]
Pack up all my care and woe, here I go singing low
Bye Bye Blackbird
Where somebody waits for me, sugar’s sweet, so is she
Bye Bye Blackbird

[Verse 2]
In nineteen ninety the bird fell still,
its engines silent against the chill;
and with one last slow descending glide,
it yielded gently to the shifting tide.
Yet hearts that watched its fire climb high
still trace its path across the sky,
and children dreaming late at night
still lay down runways for its flight.

[Chorus]
Pack up all my care and woe, here I go singing low
Bye Bye Blackbird
Where somebody waits for me, sugar’s sweet, so is she
Bye Bye Blackbird

[Verse 3]
Sleep, Blackbird, where the shadows stay;
your wings remember a brighter day.
Though resting now in steel and dust,
the world still holds your speed in trust—
a memory carried flame to flame,
an echo living in your name.

[Chorus]
Pack up all my care and woe, here I go singing low
Bye Bye Blackbird
Where somebody waits for me, sugar’s sweet, so is she
Bye Bye Blackbird

[Verse 4]
You crossed horizons few have known,
where stars felt close and the earth had grown.
You traced the edge where day meets night,
a silent guardian out of sight.
And though your runways now lie still,
the sky remembers your iron will,
and every whisper of passing air
recalls the fire once carried there.

[Chorus]
Pack up all my care and woe, here I go singing low
Bye Bye Blackbird
Where somebody waits for me, sugar’s sweet, so is she
Bye Bye Blackbird

[Bridge]
You touched the edge where day begins,
where silence breaks and morning steps in.
Though grounded now, your shadow’s flight
still lingers high in the fading night.

[Outro]
Farewell, Blackbird, bold and true,
the sky remembers the storm of you.
Though time has laid your wings to rest,
your legend lives where horizons crest.
Your shadow lingers in the quiet high air,
a soft reminder of the speed once there…
Bye Bye Blackbird



Bye Bye Blackbird (Farewell SR-71)

Elle m'aimait / She Loved Me

A French chanson exploring the arc of profound love – from the luminous moment of first meeting through intimate union to inevitable separation. Written in the tradition of classic French variety, the song captures how true love endures in memory even when circumstances pull lovers apart, with the refrain's past tense ("elle m'aimait") carrying both tenderness and loss.

© 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson — All Rights Reserved

Elle m'aimait / She Loved Me

A French chanson tracing love's journey from first encounter to bittersweet separation. In the tradition of classic French song, it explores how the beloved's presence transforms the world – and how memory preserves what time takes away.

© 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson — All Rights Reserved
[Couplet 1]
Elle était belle, douceur de lumière
Son sourire clair chassait les prières
Je l’ai vue là, mon cœur en éclat
Quand son regard a croisé mes pas

Elle m’aimait, et moi je l’aimais tant
Deux âmes portées par le même vent
Dans ses bras, le monde était léger
Elle m’aimait, et je l’ai adorée

Sous la lune, nos mots en secrets
Sur sa peau, j’ai gravé mes souhaits
Le temps passait, nous laissant rêver
Et chaque nuit nous faisait voler

Elle m’aimait, et moi je l’aimais tant
Deux âmes portées par le même vent
Dans ses bras, le monde était léger
Elle m’aimait, et je l’ai adorée

Mais les saisons séparent les destins
Elle est partie, j’ai perdu sa main
Pourtant son rire reste en chemin
Guidant ma vie jusqu’à demain

Elle m’aimait, et moi je l’aimais tant
Deux âmes portées par le même vent
Si le destin nous sépare à jamais
Je garde en moi son amour parfait



Elle m'aimait / She Loved Me

THE HOOKMAN BLUES
written and produced by Lance Thomas Davidson ©️ 2025 All Rights Reserved

I was on my way to pick up Mary Jane,
She said, “Dad’s gone till midnight — be here ’fore eight.”
We rolled on down to Lover’s Lane,
Where the soft night settles low.
Two young hearts hummin’ quiet,
Where the Delta breezes go.

She leaned in close and kissed me,
Warm as midsummer wine.
Her hand traced my shoulder gentle,
Like a tune in triple-time.
We weren’t lookin’ for no devil,
Weren’t chasin’ no fear or sign,
Just a sweet slow Mississippi night,
Lettin’ the world fall behind.

Then that radio cracked and wailed,
Like a trumpet in a storm.
“Escaped man loose by Highway Nine…
Hook for a hand where a hand was torn.”
Mary stiffened like cold iron,
Said, “Lord, let’s go home tonight.”
But I told her, soft and shaky,
“Baby… everything’ll be a’right.”

Oh, but the night got teeth in Mississippi,
Clawin’ when the wind stands still.
When metal starts scratchin’ on your rooftop,
That hookman’s huntin’ for the kill.

Then a tap-tap hit the back glass,
Soft as a coffin nail.
Not the branches nor the river,
Not a nightbird on the trail.
Mary whispered, “That ain’t natural…”
And her breath began to shake.
And the moonlight seemed to tremble
Like it feared what moves awake.

I lit myself a cigarette,
Nerves jumpin’ like a juke-joint drum.
Rolled the window just an inch,
To knock the ashes where they come.
Mary snapped, “Don’t smoke right now,”
Her voice thin as broken reeds—
Had I rolled it down one inch deeper,
That hook’d have found my throat indeed.

I flicked the butt into darkness,
Pulled the window half-way tight,
Didn’t know death’s hand was waitin’,
Leanin’ in from out the night.
A steel hook swept past the opening—
I felt the cold breath of its aim,
Scraped the frame where my neck had been…
Lord, I’d have died without a name.

Then came that slow steel-singin’,
Draggin’ cross the car’s thin crown,
A long low shhhk like judgment,
Tryin’ hard to cut us down.
Then a heavy thump on the trunk door,
Like a man climbin’ down for blood,
And the oak tree shivered behind us
Like it understood the flood.

Oh, but the night got teeth in Mississippi,
Clawin’ when the wind stands still.
When metal starts scratchin’ on your rooftop,
That hookman’s huntin’ for the kill.

I stomped that pedal heavy,
Engine cried like a weary trombone.
Mary hid her face and prayed
In a trembling minor-tone.
Something rolled off the rooftop,
Tumbled back where shadows creep,
But the fear rode with us whisperin’,
“Child… this cut runs deep.”

At her car door I tried to steady,
Tried to breathe and shake it free,
And on the passenger handle hangin’ loose,
The truth stared straight at me.
A blood-wet sharpened hook swung soft,
Fresh drippin’ in the light—
Still warm from a killer’s grip
That brushed our lives that night.

Come dawn the law searched oak and ditch,
Found footprints circlin’ slow.
A torn straight-jacket sleeve up high
Where the mad winds never blow.
And carved into that bark real jagged,
Like a cornet cryin’ shook:
“You ran tonight… but soon enough,
I’m comin’ back for my hook.”

Oh, the night got teeth in Mississippi,
When your heart beats loud and still.
You may chase a kiss down Lover’s Lane,
But the hookman’s out there—
and that devil aims to kill.

THE HOOKMAN BLUES
Written by Lance Thomas Davidson
Copyright © 2025. All Rights Reserved.

This preamble affirms that the musical work titled The Hookman Blues is an original composition authored exclusively by Lance Thomas Davidson. It establishes full ownership of all lyrical, musical, and structural elements contained within the piece. Any reproduction, performance, distribution, or adaptation of this work requires prior written consent from the author. Unauthorized use is prohibited and subject to applicable international copyright law. All creative rights, moral rights, and publication rights are expressly reserved by the author.






THE HOOKMAN BLUES

Before the waves whispered secrets on the shore  
I wandered alone, seeking something more  
A restless soul in the Bali sun so bright  
Drawn to her eyes in the warm tropical night  
Fate pulled me close, igniting a spark divine  

Em Bali, encontrei o amor verdadeiro  
Sob estrelas, dançando no vento leve  
Lábios vermelhos como vinho, sedutores  
Deixei o paraíso, em saudade eterna  

Our days melted into endless bliss under palm trees  
Dancing to rhythms of the sea and the breeze  
Whispers of love in the sunset's golden glow  
Promises made where the rice fields grow  
But shadows crept in, turning joy into woe  

Em Bali, encontrei o amor verdadeiro  
Sob estrelas, dançando no vento leve  
Lábios vermelhos como vinho, sedutores  
Deixei o paraíso, em saudade eterna  

Now echoes of laughter haunt my every dream  
Regret like the tide, pulling at the seam  
I chased fleeting passions, blind to the cost  
Left paradise behind, forever lost  
My broken heart weeps for the love I tossed  

Em Bali, encontrei o amor verdadeiro  
Sob estrelas, dançando no vento leve  
Lábios vermelhos como vinho, sedutores  
Deixei o paraíso, em saudade eterna  

It happened in Indonesia,   
On a tropical island dream   
A long time ago, I met her in Bali  
Stars and bamboo flutes and luscious lips, as red as wine  
Broke somebody's heart and I'm afraid that t'was mine  

It happened in Bali without thinking twice  
I left her and threw away the key to paradise  
My indiscreet heart longs for the sweetheart  
That I left in Bali  

Em Bali, encontrei o amor verdadeiro  
Sob estrelas, dançando no vento leve  
Lábios vermelhos como vinho, sedutores  
Deixei o paraíso, em saudade eterna  

Ah, it happened in Indonesia,   
On a tropical island dream   
A long time ago, I met her in Bali  
Stars, bamboo flutes, lips red as wine  
Broke somebody's heart and I'm afraid that t'was mine  

It happened in Bali and without thinking twice  
I left her and threw away the key to paradise  
My indiscreet heart, how it longs for that sweetheart  
That I left in Bali

It Happened in Bali

Title: Transcendence Beyond a Lonely December - (ALL VERSIONS)
 
This musical composition, lyrics, and its associated sound recording, entitled *Transcendence Beyond a Lonely December*, are the exclusive intellectual property of Lance Thomas Davidson and are protected under international copyright law, the Berne Convention, and all applicable digital media and intellectual property statutes. This recording and the mechanical implementation of the lyrics in any sound or remixed version of the lyrics is authorized for streaming and platform-based playback exclusively via SoundCloud and its affiliated distribution services exclusively on this channel which is the official channel of Lance Thomas Davidson
 
No portion of this work may be copied, reproduced, redistributed, resold, synchronized, remixed, sampled, broadcast, publicly performed, stored, or transmitted in any format or medium without the express prior written consent of the copyright holder. Unauthorized use of this work constitutes copyright infringement and will be subject to all applicable civil and criminal remedies.
 
Written, Composed, and Produced by Lance Thomas Davidson © 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson — All Rights Reserved
  

A lonely December leans into the night,
With calendars trembling in candlelit light.
We toast to tomorrow with borrowed belief,
But the truth of the New Year wears uncertainty’s grief.

We draft all our futures in ink made of plans,
On pages that flutter like dust in our hands.
Every promise we write is a delicate thread,
Spun from the hopes that we still haven’t said.

Some hearts will stitch together and choose to stay,
Some love will unravel and quietly fray.
Some hands will let go in the middle of June,
Some will hold tighter beneath the same moon.

The roads will divide where they once ran as one,
Two shadows at sunset where there was a sun.
Yet others will wander with steps intertwined,
Leaving yesterday’s ache in the dust far behind.

We aim for the stars with our feet on the ground,
Listening close to the bare, honest sound
Of time as it passes with no guarantees,
Just a wind in the trees and a breath in the leaves.

A lonely December can’t promise the climb,
Or who we’ll become with the turning of time.
But all that unfolds in the coming of days
Rests in the Divine hand of creation that guides all our ways.



Transcendence Beyond A Lonely December - Version 1

“Ain’t Even Done with the Night”
Written by John Mellencamp

This recording is a cover version of the original composition.

All lyrics and underlying composition remain the property of their respective copyright holders.
Mechanical and lyrical rights are administered by the publisher(s) on behalf of the songwriter.

This recording is released under a compulsory mechanical license.

℗ © 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson – Sound recording only. All Rights Reserved.



Ain't Even Done with the Night

WolfMoon ll

Lance Thomas Davidson | Music Biography
I’m Lance Thomas Davidson, a professional songwriter and producer currently residing in Bali, Indonesia. I create original music that spans multiple genres—including R&B, rap, country, progressive rock, and metal—each crafted with a story that listeners can connect with on a deep level.

My music is recorded by a diverse selection of artists, who, under mutually beneficial non-disclosure agreements, perform as “ghost cover” artists. As the sole owner of the master rights, I offer these productions for licensing in flexible formats. Artists have the option to engage in profit-sharing agreements, purchase the rights outright, or acquire the masters for unlimited editing and distribution, tailored to their creative vision.

I prefer to conduct business exclusively online, maintaining a discreet approach while delivering high-quality music productions worldwide.

© 2024 Lance Thomas Davidson. All Rights Reserved.

Ain't Even Done with the Night

Lance Davidson

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