A cover of This Must Be The Place by The Talking Heads. Instrumentation and vocals done by Doyle Campagnini. Original written by David Byrne

This Must Be The Place(Talking Heads Cover)

New Original song. All instruments, lyrics, and vocals by Doyle Campagnini.

Lyrics:
Motherbird, are you alive and well?

I let it slip, and crashed right into
The back of the beginning of everything and anyways
You know I'm right, only half of the time
It's funny how I'll get so worked up over almost anything 

And everything falls in a spin
And your mother was crying
And I'm trying, I tried to do everything right
But let's not forget, I was standing in line
All abride with confetti and my newspaper headline

And I can't put it down, but I can't get it right
The same medicine that kept you sane, always made you sick at night
And you thought you almost had me, or at least dead to rights
I am halfway to the border when it comes in to sight
and it reads: 'You don't speak. You don't sing.'
At least not like the Cruelty Fighter sang Für Elise

Bury my mind in an arduous maritime pencil-thin line
and put it over everything, and anything

They put Hell in to every machine, didn't they? Didn't they?
A little in to you, and a little in to me
He put Hell in to every machine, Didn't He? Didn't He?
A little in to you, and a little in to me
And a little in our hearts, and a little up our sleeves

Motherbird(Memory of a Memory intro) + Cruelty Fighter

I am easy to find

Rode in to town on your whaleheart
With your suitcase and all, and your hair's all gone
And the way you walk it might seem funny, they'll say
But not to Johnny, Sarah, Joe, or Me.

Rode in to town and your whaleheart's gone
And your collar's not right. My head's too tight.

And did they kiss you enough?
Did they kill for you enough?
Did they miss you enough?
Did they martyr off your trust?

And I tried trial by fire, anything to make that ambulance lighter
Bottling an ounce of heat each from the funeral pyre

And did they hit you? Enough.
Did they kill for you? Enough.
Did they hurt you? Enough.
Did they barter all your love?
And they're calling me the liar
But there's Seagulls 'round the spire

And you know? I've felt it too
They're wachin all the world
Who's watching you?
Ganymede aint got nothin on lil' ol' me (HOLD ME!) 
Or you

featuring: Posiey LaPrad on drums, and backup vocals

I'm Not Sleeping-I'm Still Dreaming

A Posiey, Doyle, and Chelsea song. 
Not quite Dial H, or Daisy Episode.

Throw a nickel in the jar
Hear the monkey play guitar
Times are rough, they're getting hard
On the boulevard, Michelle

We used to hear the banjos play
Just about every day
Now they've shooed them all away
From the boulevard, Michelle

For that first time
For the last time
In that meadow whence we knelt
I put my ring on you, but you had to go
to the boulevard, Michelle
And that night drags on and on and on it's hard to tell
Just like your mother went through hell
On that boulevard, Michelle

I was only seventeen
When you offered me your ring
But, I could hear those trumpets sing
From the boulevard

Sur Le Boulevard, Michelle

Song written by Posiey LaPrad and I, featuring Brown Sug!

There's a War

Starting in the summer of 2011, Doyle Argene Campagnini started writing and recording a series of songs dedicated to his son, sisters, and late mother. Now it's turned in to something different... Something greater. I'm always looking for friends to collaborate and play live with. Located on the number 4 digit of your standard touch tone or dial telephone keypad, Dial H is the embodiment of naive vagrant struggle, and internecine, uncertain, and unfortunate double meaning.

I don't record in a studio. I "master" it all myself, and usually record all of a new song, and have it up, in less than a day. I usually play every instrument, but sometimes feature my friends in recordings, and at live shows. No producer, no label. 

Doyle

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