As an American, all I can say, is beautifully done, I love it, just, perfect. :) CHEERS!

Have you ever heard how to disappear
From the nothingness of your life filled with cheap thrills?
On the Central line
"Suburban" irritant
With that smell of fear,
& cabbage spicy garbage and "what's up kid?" 
So...you gave yourself to dance, London owes you a chance
but your hair went grey you couldn't hold your nerve
In the river Thames
And you find yourself harmless, you find yourself floating away
In a paper cup
It was as short as it was brutal as it was ambitious as it was pure

Now you tread down the streets of King's Cross blue mascara
And a bag from Tesco
The drinking days so far away yeah the sorry tales
Can't run form your haunting story called "I've had my days of glory"
It's about the time your father died on a playing field

It comes to nothing but I'm still looking at your freckles & our lies
It comes to nothing but I'm still wondering the wonder of being alive
Cause I'm not allright

Your Beaujoulais is running out with red letters on the floor - you didn't show
It was as short as it was brittle, ever ambitious, our stupid joke

You like to talk about efficiency
All we have is a basis for a workable thing
You love to talk about efficiency
All we have is a minimum basis for a workable thing

Something's running in your veins and takes control over you
Something good and something dreary
If you ever fled the scene
If you ever felt the heat
It can't get any easier they say "what for" as you walk away
Your Dostoevskj sleeps tonight and all your literature is torn

You like to talk about efficiency
All you have is a basis for a workable thing

A Workable Thing

Hello…my weeping willow
But you find yourself so gorgeous that you disappear with worry 				              
At your window pane										
always so far away									              
I bumped into you on a day of July you escorted me with your boring life…

You seem satisfied about today					                                                                  statements when your drunk… someone like you could really do something                                                 Why don’t you kill yourself?								                                
Why don’t you disappear? It’s all for free

You seem satisfied about today									            
A photograph to show – someone like you could really do yourself in				 
Why don’t you sell yourself? Why don’t you disappear? It’s all for free 

And I better stop thinking									        
that we’re probably sober									           
…For awkward tomorrows 
						
You seem satisfied about the plans								             
but you know the past doesn’t fall in place					             	                 
I just can’t take it anymore. I just can’t take it anymore. I just can’t take it anymore.
And suddenly you smile										

And we better stop thinking.                                                                                                                                              That we know that it’s over		                                                                                                                 Now we’re out where the grass grows	
You know… there are better, better problems
We’re indulging ourselves – in so many ways						                         
 you swear that you’ll swear til there’s nothing left to say…	

Hello…my weeping willow
But you find yourself so gorgeous that you disappear with worry 				              
At your window pane											
always so far away									              
I bumped into you on a day of July you were scaring me with your boring life…
Don’t finish - what you wouldn’t start… 
Now you tell me –  for real – you lied to me!
You cant say that your not beautiful = why don’t you realise that the others have problems baby
More darkness, on principle! Why don’t you realise that the others – lied to you!


Existentialist

In a coma somewhere in Lancashire we’re together without fears
In a romance among the daffodils you’re ten feet tall…too much to me…. 


Somewhere In Lancashire

Cielo mio, cielo tuo

God Bless  America

02 dinosauro

03 dio della musica

L’ep “Letters” nasce dalla riflessione su 3 momenti ben distinti della vita di molti born in the 80s ma di tutti gli umani in generale; l’illusione di una gioventù senza limiti e pensieri, la crisi bulimica nei confronti della vita che la prima fase comporta ed una ritrovata maturità e serenità fin quasi aggressiva.  Le atmosfere a cui richiama l’ep sono raffinatamente Inglesi, nel senso più classico, melodico e chitarristico nel quale questo termine possa essere inteso. Trovarsi musicalmente in questa dimensione oggi  -2014 - , epoca nella quale le identità sono (interessantemente) mixate e l’avanguardia guarda ben oltre i confini Europei, comporta senz’altro una scelta coraggiosa, in quanto i Gallagher shining days e i pigri pomeriggi di Morrissey sembrano dimenticati dai più (ma forse sono pronti per un imminente ritorno?).  Nonostante ciò gli Ocean Cloud sanno di non poter scegliere ma solo di poter intraprendere nel modo più efficace il percorso di interpretazione del proprio sentito, così grezzamente Britannico come si è sviluppato nel corso delle loro giovani ma ormai mature individualità. 
La prima traccia “Letters” vuole essere frivola ma al contempo decisa, narrando di vicissitudini epistolari di gioventù, estati padane assolate bisognose di pioggia e sporadici viaggi in Albione; un concentrato di vissuto giovanile che galleggia su un ritmo ballabile e una melodia che aggancia l’ascoltatore, suggellata da cori Hooligans nel ritornello.
“You’re a Plant that will Grow” , secondo passaggio del disco, parla di consapevolezza, gestione delle proprie emozioni ed esperienze, anche sbagliate o infantili, ma comunque facenti parti di una percezione conscia fino ad essere sarcastica nel suo esprimersi. Tanti falsetti rendono un ibrido questa composizione, tra il virile e il femmineo, anche qua a testimoniare la scoperta di più parti del sé. Ruolo centrale da parte del Sax che dona melodia e ritmo al pezzo.
La terza traccia del lavoro “The Last Story a Man Can Tell” racconta infine l’ ultima, o l’unica, storia che un uomo può raccontare, come il titolo indica. La convinzione e la sicurezza di sé ben presto nel corso della canzone di tramutano in una domanda, una richiesta di testimonianza, “Did you go there?” chiede PF Gasparini, quasi incredulo e sbalordito, prima di lanciarsi in un autoconfessione biografica che tende al puro dramma. Ritmicamente e melodicamente siamo nel mondo delle ballate anni ’90, con l’aiuto di un più moderno arrangiamento di trombe/violini.

God Bless America

Ocean Cloud

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