I’ve discovered the joy of playing piano, having taught myself to play this year on my lovely Yamaha digital piano.  I’ve been rediscovering songs that I previously wrote on the guitar and finding that a piano instrumental can express what I wanted to say originally, without the need for lyrics.  Apologies for the iPhone recording.  This song is about my love of travelling and how I inherited that from my parents, but how it’s also lovely to come home again and in springtime hear the Curlew calling across the fields.  I hope you enjoy this.   ‘For those who’ve gone before me, were travellers in time.’

Piano Travellers in Time

P¶1n6ü1N∞

Paint The Rapper makes a track in homage to Eminem, Sweet Dreams. 
Produced by Oxygen Beats

Sweet Dreams

“Father Burns (In His Cell)”

Sights to fill their eyes
Noise to fill their ears
All the show man can devise

Rod of gold for my mind
Four walls for my flesh
All to serve a higher life

Yet still I hold out
A hope for the past
And a hope for a new Passover
Free of the beast of Babylon

But I know it’s going to be a long time
Til I cast my eyes over
Over the land of paradise

Until then—I kneel
Down in silence
Until then—kneel
Down in darkness
Down in crooked crosses
Down in blasted wombs
Down in forked gossip
Down in cortex tombs

Nothing’s new under the sun
Variety beggars surprise
More and more makes man less than

Nothing’s old to the wise
Lost truths discovered anew
With empty hands man claims his prize

Yet still I hold out
A hope for the future
And a hope for a new higher culture
The renaissance of a pantheon

But I fear it’s going to be a long time
Til we lift our spirits higher
Higher to a new-world paragon

Until then—I kneel
Down in silence
Until then—kneel
Down in darkness
Down in heroes’ ashes
Down in wearied words
Down in exhausted passion
Down among the herds

- - -
Music by Corey Ball
Lyrics by August Lysy

Mastered by Spencer Martin

Father Burns (In His Cell)

This is a collaboration between me and Tez, of Llanpsych fame. He added the lead guitar parts to my base. I really enjoy making music with him. if you're unfamiliar, check him out on here under Llanpsych.

Hi (with Llanpsych)

___🎹_____A_N_O_T_H_E_R___M_U_S_I_C_____🎹___
_____BE CURIOUS, CREATIVE, INVENTIVE, DARE!____

________________________________________________________________________
🛠 - Made with MOOG & Modular / Multi-tracks
🎹 - Composed, arranged, performed, produced by Pier WILL & Studio 4H09
🔲 - Artwork - Pier WILL
🙏 - Acknowledgements - Ableton, Arturia, Audacity, Cantabile, MSI, Focusrite, Korg, M-Audio, Sony, SoundCloud, Teac, Techniks, Yamaha.
⚙️ - #Ambient #Movies #Electro #Experimental #Minimal #Space
________________________________________________________________________

❤️Love, 🕊️Peace, 🙏Respect

Always Running, Again and Again...2

Always Running, Again And Again...2

Nothing is lost but only found.

Music: Gebr.K
Guitars, Synthis, Bass: JayK
Vocals: Xian3
Text edition: Xian3
Lyrics: Franz Kafka

Homecoming is a narrative in the form of a parable from the estate of Franz Kafka. The narrative, which is only twenty sentences long, begins with the words: "I have returned" and occasionally appears under this title, was written down by Kafka in 1920 in a quarto notebook.



I have returned, 
I have passed under the arch and am looking around. 
It’s my father’s old yard. The puddle in the middle. Old, useless tools, jumbled together, 
block the way to the attic stairs. 
The cat lurks on the banister. 
A torn piece of cloth, once twisted around 
a stick in a game, 
flutters in the breeze. 

I have arrived. 
Who is going to receive me? 
Who is waiting behind the kitchen door? 
Smoke is rising from the chimney, 
coffee is being made for diner.

Do you feel you belong, do you feel at home? 
I don’t know, I feel most uncertain.
 
My father’s house it is, 
but each object stands cold beside the next, 
as though preoccupied with its own affairs,
which I have partly forgotten, partly never known.
What use can I be to them, what do I mean to them, even though 
I am the son of my father, 
the old farmer? 
And I don’t dare knock at the kitchen door, 
I only listen from a distance,

I only listen from a distance, 
standing up, in such a way 
that I cannot be taken by surprise as an eavesdropper. 
And since I am listening from a distance, 
I hear nothing but a faint striking of the clock 
passing over from childhood days,

but perhaps I only think I hear it. 
Whatever else is going on in the kitchen 
is the secret of those sitting there, 
a secret they are keeping from me. 
The longer one hesitates before the door, 
the more estranged one becomes. 
What would happen if someone were to open the door now 
and ask me a question? 
Would not I myself then behave like the one 
who wants to keep his secret?”

I have returned („Homecoming“, F.Kafka 1920) feat. Xian3

Home (instrumental demo)

BYE NOW

Alternative, instrumental, saxophone, ukulele, melancholic, moody

Why What Why Not Dripsnot

Hello and thank you for dropping by.

Thank you very much to everyone who takes the time to listen, like and share my noises. I am extremely grateful. My apologies if I take a little while to respond to those that leave nice comments.

I like listening to music, making simple, tunes when I have time, and generally faffing about in an inefficient manner. Hopefully you might like something on offer here. 

I use a Hinkler Cigar Box guitar (about $30 from Aldi, great fun), a Flying V ukulele, a couple of old keyboards, other bits and bobs, and a Yamaha tenor saxophone.

Why What Why Not Dripsnot

Mikey McFaffington and his Saxophonic Adventures