"Waiting to be Misunderstood" [upright bass & banjo]

it's always so tiring
just sitting around
waiting to be misunderstood

it's always so exhausting 
sitting around
waiting to be misunderstood

I'm always trying to tell you what I'm feeling
making it as clear as I can be
I'm always trying to tell you what I'm feeling 
but you're just getting static from me

it's always so tiring
just sitting around
waiting to be misunderstood

it's always so exhausting 
sitting around
waiting to be misunderstood

aren't you tired of feeling this way?
I'm tired of feeling this damn way
I'm so tired I'm so tired I'm so tired

it's always so tiring
just sitting around
waiting to be misunderstood

it's always so exhausting 
sitting around
waiting to be misunderstood

Waiting To Be Misunderstood

A sound lesson, in 432 hz, on how to compose healing poetry and music, from Mercury who's often depicted in alchemical symbolism as a serpent, and without whom no creative endeavour can come to fruition. 

Big thanks to the incredible Ryan Kenneth Ford for this extraordinary music. You can find him here: @ryankennethford

Words and vocals: © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, September 2023. 

Music: © Ryan Kenneth Ford, September 2023.
https://linktr.ee/RyanKennethFord 

Lyrics:
Great Earthen sprites under diamond skies
Of Beltane constellations,
Rocked me to sleep with a lullaby,
Lunar mansions of star nations.
In magical flight, 
Hush hush, good night,
To chrysanthemum plantations,
Where sun keepers gather together, to baptise
With kisses from carnations. 

The split-forked tongue of the serpent god 
Sparked red from among the clover.
Like Alice, adrift and over-awed
I knew all sense was over.
I felt a fraud
Tongue too roughshod,
For this wordsmith lover. 
He handed me a measuring rod,
And the rhythm held, moreover.

He told me to leave the meaning behind, 
And just let the drum beat free
He said that the rhythm of the rhyme
Would be the remedy. 
Healing song lines
Across all times
Not for left brains, you see.
More like the waves at royal Lyme,
That come and go to the sea. 

Cover Art: Eve Tempted by the Serpent
William Blake (1757–1827)
Victoria and Albert Museum

The Serpent's Teaching (music by Ryan Kenneth Ford)

White Sail | Korima

Listen to Korima at www.korima.net.

White Sail | Korima

Available to buy with exclusive content: 

https://collisongoodman.bandcamp.com/album/drinkin-in-hell

This song is for anyone who is sick and tired of being lied to and manipulated by the powers that be.

I ran into an old friend he didn't have much to say
I said "hoss how you feeling? You ain't looking to good these days"
So we ducked inside this little dive and we had a drink or three
He said I don't mind talking now 'cause it's the only thing that's free
I feel like I'm up against and no one gives a damn
People just look right through me yeah they don't remember who I am
I wanna be my brother's keeper but sometimes I just don't care
I wanna cut it loose, gonna light my fuse
Let em know that I'm really there.

'Cause I'd rather be drinkin in hell than sober in heaven
Rolling with them snake eyes up instead of seven eleven
Screaming with the losers at the winners
Fighting them saints with the sinners
Well I'd rather be drinkin' in hell than sober in heaven.

I've been hunkered down and laying low but the bills keep coming 'round
I could use some stimulation but it's nowhere to be found
They say just grin and bear it son because help is on the way
All I got is time in the hiring line while I'm waiting on some better days.

Well I'd rather be drinkin in hell than sober in heaven
Rolling with them snake eyes up instead of seven eleven
Screaming with the losers at the winners
Fighting them saints with the sinners
Well I'd rather be drinkin' in hell than sober in heaven.

Good folks are crying
Good folks are trying
But we just can't ever seem to catch a break
Life just keeps on coming, like a freight train on a run
And there's only so much a working man can take
I'm feeling mean and pissed off
Just worn down to the bone
So my friend pull up a chair because I don't like drinking alone

Yes I'd rather be drinkin in hell than sober in heaven
Rolling with them snake eyes up instead of seven eleven
Screaming with the losers at the winners
Fighting them saints with the sinners
Well I'd rather be drinkin' in hell than sober in heaven.

Drinkin' In Hell

SAINT PATRICK AND OISIN, SO POETRY TELLS US, ARGUED ON THE MATTER OF THE PURITY OF THE SOUNDS OF NATURE AS AGAINST THE SWEETNESS OF MUSICAL COMPOSITION....THIS IS THE STARTING POINT FROM MY NEW REINTERPRETATION OF THIS BEAUTIFUL TRADITIONAL TUNE. ENJOY MY UILLEANN PIPES SOLO!! SHARE AND COMMENTS IF YOU LIKE, CIAO
 CHECK OUT MAY MORNING DEW VIDEO ON MY YOU TUBE CHANNEL:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8oUFY2h1Fg

MAY MORNING DEW

Orlando's Lament

Recorded in Modesto, Ca.  Featuring Godin Nylon Guitar solo. Flute solo. Tenor Saxophone solo. Fender Rhodes Electric Piano solo. Roland synthesizer Bass. Fender Electric Bass. Gibson L5 Electric Guitar Rhythm. Render Rhodes electric Piano Rhythm. String Quartet, Viola, Cello, Bowed Bass. Trap drum set full kit. Percussion Tambourine, Cowbell, Ago go bells, Zildjan 22" Ride & Crash Cymbal.

Cannery Row

Moon Flower

Third part of my father trilogy.
The father trilogy ends with my naïve and youthful attempt, at the age of 23, to break away from my father, who seemed overpowering at the time, and stand on my own two feet: 
To move as far away as possible from my provincial hometown, to throw myself into a Berlin that was completely foreign to me at the time and completely overwhelming. 
My saviour at the time was my oldest friend, who had already been living in Berlin for a few years and took me under his wing like a big brother.     
But even with his help, I soon had to realise that the attempt at a radical inner "patricide" could not succeed in any way. The early imprints he had left on me, the demons I had 'inherited' from him, were all still there. No matter how much I turned my outer life upside down, there was no escape from the central patterns and beliefs that I had learnt from my father in the first 10 years of my life.
In this respect, the song title "The Singular Man" is a "Mission Impossible". It was only three years later, and especially after his early death, that I realised more and more that a lifelong confrontation with my inner father images could lead to a closely linked dialectic:
An ever deeper and visibly more reconciliatory bond with my father and, at the same time, an ever-increasing self-realisation    
 
The Singular Man  (Lyrics in English)

Run through streets crooked and skewed 
The bridges criss-cross

All around me the stink of the city
An army of people everywhere

Turn in somewhere now
Fall in at your door

You are alone
Your corridor infinitely long
Your walls high and wide 
Your front door broad and welcoming

You push me through the corridor now 
At the windows the siren-
song

I get scared and bang 
Am I still
Your catch of fish
Your silhouette
That only plays at being free

And yet I have escaped you 
Escaped!

I take off all hinges
Hang out the windows
Make me a magic wand
Grey Berlin becomes a colourful bouquet for me 

Ride on a peacock wheel
Take a foam spring bath in the Spree

All light 
Time thrown into the air

Pain-free in a glittering dress
An ecstatic feeling of life

But something pushes back
Under the carpet lies the hanging rope
The spider's web is
Still there
The old danger

I only know about her now 
Keep me out of her more 

Oh man, the singular man
Man Oh man, the singular man
Man Oh man, the singular man
Man Oh man, the singular man


Der Singuläre Mann (Deutscher Originaltext)

Lauf’ durch Straßen krumm und schief, 
Die Brücken kreuz und quer

Um mich herum der Großstadtmief
Überall ein Menschen-Heer

Bieg' irgendwo jetzt ein
Fall’ bei Dir zur Tür herein

Du bist allein
Dein  Flur unendlich lang
Deine Wände hoch und weit 
Deine Eingangstür willkommens-breit

Schiebst mich jetzt durch den Gang 
An den Fenstern der Sirenen-
Gesang

Mir wird Angst und Bang 
Bin ich immer noch
Dein Fischfang
Dein Schattenbild
Das das Freisein nur spielt

Und doch bin ich Dir entflohen 
Entflohen!

Lege alle Scharniere ab
Häng' die Fenster aus
Bastle mir einen Zauberstab
Grau-Berlin wird mir zum bunten Strauß 

Fahr auf nem‘ Pfauenrad
Nehm‘ in der Spree ein Schaum-Frühlingsbad

Alles leicht 
In die Luft geworfene Zeit

Schmerzbefreit im Glitzerkleid
Ein rauschhaftes Lebensgefühl

Doch etwas drängt zurück
Unterm Teppich liegt der Häng‘-Dich-Strick
Das Spinnennetz ist
Immer noch da
Die alte Gefahr

Kenn‘ mich jetzt nur mit ihr aus 
Halt mich mehr aus ihr raus 

Oh Mann, der Singuläre Mann
Mann Oh Mann, der Singuläre Mann
Mann Oh Mann, der Singuläre Mann
Mann Oh Mann, der Singuläre Mann

Der Singulare Mann (The Singular Man)

Der Singuläre Mann (The Singular Man)

Vocal / Composer / Lyricist: Richard A Perna
Vocal Engineer: Nixin VanDough

Outta My Misery

A Game With Frontiers

HI!! Here's my folk-rocky version of SCOTLAND THE BRAVE!!!
In 1951, the famous Scots singer Robert Wilson asked Cliff Hanley to write the words to accompany an old Highland pipe tune. Although few realised it at the time, "Scotland the Brave" was to become a nationwide and international hit. Indeed, it remained the de facto national anthem for two decades before being supplanted by Flower Of Scotland. SHARE AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE!!

SCOTLAND THE BRAVE

lo-fi indie folk

Marc writes, plays, sings & records it all. Check out his novels too.

Waiting To Be Misunderstood

drivin al folked up

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