All They Fear - World Under Terror Korn Impulse Mix2

Mixed and Mastered by Woods Studio
soundcloud.com/woods_studio

Written for all my beloved pals from the 70's and dedicated to 364 Sunnyside Ave.

Lyrics:

Stand up my friends and we’ll raise a glass again
To the days when we all were shining
We won’t pretend that we’ll never reach the end
But it’s gold from our past we’ll be mining.

Turn around and then we’re reaching, 3 score and 10,
During all that time we’ve had some grieving.
Nonetheless today we only have bright words to say,
Hearts, high, we hold those troubles at bay.

Stand up my friends and we’ll raise a glass again
To the days when we were a-shining.
We might pretend that we’ll never reach the end
And it’s gold from our past that we’re mining.

Time Warp dancin’ days with our laughter on display
When we shared that shabby palace near the parkside.
Crushes at a cost, some affairs were won and lost,
Hearts, high, we learned about lovin’ and pride.

Stand up my friends and we’ll raise a glass again
To the days when we all were shining.
We will pretend that we’ll never reach the end
Of that gold from our past that we’re mining.

European trails were the stuff of taller tales,
Days when our feet found new horizons.
Drivers would succumb to the spell of our golden thumb,
Hearts, high, we rolled into the vanishing sun.

Sit down my friends and we’ll tell them all over again
All those stories ‘bout when we were shining.
No need to pretend that we’ll never reach the end
Of the gold from our past that we’re mining.
And it’s gold in our hearts we’re refining.
Ooo – ooo – ooo.

Shining

Mixed and Mastered by Woods Studio
@woods_studio

Written about that first big unreciprocated crush.

Lyrics:

In those long distant wilderness days, 
When we paddled on the rivers and the warm waterways,
And every night there was a fire and a song, 
And the group would all be singin’ 
With me strummin’ along,
Yeah, it was then that I started to fall, 
And it was then that I really thought you had it all,
A mystery fever that I couldn’t resolve,
It wasn’t something that I thought I could speak of,
I kept it hidden in a bottle of love.

You were lost in another affair, 
It was pretty obvious that it was goin’ nowhere,
But as my feelings continued to churn, 
You endlessly described it and I suffered the burn,
And all that time there was a glorious pain, 
A euphoric obsession in an overwrought brain,
And all that time the sun was mixed up with rain,
Then I knew what they had all been speaking of,
But mine was stuck inside a bottle of love.

Over the years our companionship grew, 
Lots of music, lots of friends along the way,
Over the years I held no magic for you, 
But I was okay for occasional play.

Instrumental

Regardless of the why or the who, 
Only time is the healer and for me it was true,
Another chapter opened out of the blue, 
Another love, another life upon a new avenue,
And if it all didn’t have any meaning, 
And if it all was as tangible as sand through a glove,
And if it all was just a brief intervening,
Then it’s a memory I don’t want to speak of,
But let it slumber in a bottle of love.

Bottle Of Love

This all the music that i composed for the short movie "One More Cup of Coffee" which is based in early 1940 and tells a love story.

Station 4/1

THE HUNT 

The hunt is on
The hunt is on
Warpath
Warpath

Do you believe in peace?
They trick you into unfair treaties
Don't you try to hide and run?
Sneak at them and get the gun
and shoot

Silhouettes at the horizon
Men on mustangs, blood red sun
They come and try but we will prove
Crush your peace pipes, everyone
Everyone
Crush your peace pipes, everyone

The hunt is on
The hunt is on
The hunt is on
Naked, painted, dangerous
No more lies, no more talk
Now it's time for tomahawk
The hunt is on 
The hunt is on
(Now it's time for tomahawk)


Pale face speaking with split toungue
selling marbles and firewater
Slaughtering our buffaloes
now we steal and sell your daughter

Don't you bring me peace and freedom
now get out my tipi door
Take your cattle, take your bible
Take your smallpox, this means war 
This means war
This means war

The hunt is on
Naked, painted, dangerous
No more lies, no more talk
Now it's time for tomahawk
The hunt is on
No more lies, no more talk
Now it's time for tomahawk
The hunt is on



(Death bells taken from the Neckargerach's Michaelskirche)

The Hunt

An evocative composition for brass, strings and woodwind, Citadel is about strength and protection, friendship and faith.

CITADEL

A song about always ending up where you started, despite how hard you try to escape

LYRICS:

Could have been a hurricane
A low flying jet plane
But it blew us all away
No, I don't know if I wanna go home
Don't know if I wanna go home
I know I don't wanna stay
here
with you
today
Here
with you
in pain

We were pulling on our loose threads
Making up our death beds
when the wind began to howl
Oh, we can't hide from the gathering storm
But can we gather in the towns we were born
and await our impending fates?
I'm here
with you
again
Again
I'm here
with you
No pain

I'm here
with you
again
I'm here
with you
No pain

No pain

No Pain

In this music I have experimented with the use of special picking and percussion instruments that combine the style of oriental music with modern western electronic music. I also tried to sneak in some jazz drum elements. It turned out weird, but that was my goal.
Check please!

Your Mum's Hen Tuned The Guitar

Streaming Link !!!

Small Town Tales 
(Written by:  Eric Shay & Jeremy Brizzi)
 

Verse 1 
She likes a smalltown bar, a simple wink from afar 
Harmless, as her smile shifts. around the room, a sudden change 
A statement or a claim of innocence, I’m reassured but I feel strange 
In a room of strangers with dim lights 

PreChorus 
Monday winds downs 
My love for her is strong 
Deep inside I frown 
 
Chorus 
But I play along, bestowed upon these clowns 
Just one more drink 
I won’t stay long 

Verse 2 
Her words to me are real but left actions intertwined. 
With stares, drawn out hugs. flirtations to say the least 
To the small city streets that never cease to tell the tale beyond words 
Subtle and direct but never heard, or simple dismissal, her rejoice to be free 

PreChorus 
Monday winds downs 
My love for her is strong 
Deep inside I frown 
 
Chorus 
But I play along, bestowed upon these clowns 
Just one more drink 
I won’t stay long 

Bridge 
This bar stool is where we go to forget. 
And this ghost town is a place no one has left 

Chorus 
Just one more drink 
I won’t stay long

Small Town Tales (Bray & the Astral Projections)

Mixed and Mastered by Woods Studio
@woods_studio

Mouths: Gary Waters

Lyrics:

Do you know talkaholics? They’re always there when I walk,
And even if I can’t see them, I can sure hear them talk,
They may be way down the block,
I’m talkin’ talkaholics, I hear them now behind me,
And when the setting’s bucolic, they’re sittin’ up in a tree
And on a blabberin’ spree.

When I’m walkin’ they’re talkin,’ when they’re talkin’ I’m walkin’
Sound important but they’re really sayin’ nada,
I’ll never be a fan, ‘cause I’m a grumpy old man,
It’s like an oral armada, just yada-yada-yada.

A lot of talkaholics, they bike in yackety packs,
They yell and holler at each other,
When I just wanna relax, it bugs me to the max!  
You know that talkaholics, jog in garrulous pairs,
And by the time they pass by ya,
You know all their affairs, and that can give you a scare!  

When I was a kid my report cards said,
“Oh he’s so quiet, but an asset to the class!”
Later on my boss would sing the same old song
While I’m quietly thinking “You can kiss my ass.”

Talkaholics - they have a little chatty phone,
And in a lovely quiet place, they’re chattin’ there in your face,
And they won’t leave it alone.  

When I was a kid all my teachers said
“Oh he’s so quiet. No he never makes a peep.”
Now that I’m old it’s what I’m still bein’ told,
But why can’t everybody be just like me? (‘cause you’re a freak)

You know that talkaholics – it’s an addiction, I know
But if you Google a 12-step, it’s got nothing to show
And they have nowhere to go.  

If you put a few together, (in a padded cell it’s better),
To tell their tales and talk themselves out,
All reason will diminish ‘cause no sentence will finish
And their heads’ll explode from the verbal overload.

Talkaholics. Talkaholics.   
It would be different if they, had something special to say, 
But instead it’s all blather, you know that I’d rather
Hear a hee-hawin’ mule than a talkin’ fool,
Here comes a blabbermouth, I’d better turn and head south,
It’s not that they’re corrupt, they just won’t shut up… “Shut Up”.

Talkaholics

Alley's General Store

Punk rock and metal guitarist. Mixing and Recording with LePou free plugins and Cubase stock plugins. Drum programming with Addictive Drums. If you need help with preproduction (drum programming, bass or guitar tracking) or demo recording, please contact me: machuw@hotmail.com. All music by me, except drum and bass arrangements in earlier projects and most vocals.

All They Fear - World Under Terror Korn Impulse Mix2

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