“Game of Denial”

I’m doing fantastic
	(I’m feeling space)
Thanks for asking
	(Why do you say?)
In the game of denial
	(This game I play)
I’ve got a winning smile
	(I lie with my face)

They’re always asking, Aren’t you worried?
	(They see through space)
I’m always asking, Do I seem worried?
	(Looks hide the face)
They always answer, No, not really
	(Why don’t you say?)
Then why’d you bother asking, silly?
	(Along, we play)

Tell me the truth
Or push back on my lies
Whatever you say
I will deny

My life is a mess—that I deny
But I’m doing my best
And feelin’ alright

I’m doing califragic
	(I feel afraid)
Talkin’ pax monastic
	(I hide away)
In the game of healing
	(My life I play)
I’ve got that encompassing feeling
	(Embracing space)

They’re always asking, Are you hurting?
	(They see my play)
And I ask, Why would I be hurting?
	(Lost and afraid)
The universe has healed me fully
	(Hide me away)
I am now a vessel of healing
	(Empty as space)

Tell me the truth
Or push back on my lies
Whatever you say
I will deny

Is it delusion or peace that I’ve found
It’s my solution
I’m on the rebound
. . .
A man convinced against his will
Is of his own opinion still
For none can sway and none can quell
Some fire he’s lit beyond his skill

And wisdom spoke with kindly tongue
Unto the gasp of patience’s lungs
Cannot prevail against dried dung
When in his ears it’s fastly bunged 

And family, friends, and erstwhile guides
Cannot contend with tailored pride
When he esteems so smart his mind
He twirls it smugly at his side

And nature neither can withstand 
The fancies of an arcane hand
When on her image he embrands
His secret knowledge and demands

- - -
Music by Corey Ball
Lyrics by August Lysy

Mastered by Spencer Martin

Game of Denial

check also out the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QCIkPMvhIek

Orcus

"Up in the Gallery" (German: "Auf der Galerie") is a short piece of fiction written by Franz Kafka. It was created between November 1916 and February 1917 and published in the collection „Ein Landarzt“ (A Country Doctor) in 1919. The story offers two versions of a scene in which a young man watches a circus ringmaster and a woman on horseback. (Wikipedia)

The picture shows a section of: At The Circus Fernando, The Rider
by Henri Toulouse-Lautrec (1888)

Public domain translation by Ian Johnston (November 2003)                     


Up in the Gallery

If some frail tubercular lady circus rider 
were to be driven in circles around and around 
the arena for months and months 
without interruption 
in front of a tireless public 
on a swaying horse 
by a merciless whip-wielding 
master of ceremonies, 
spinning on the horse, 
throwing kisses and swaying at the waist, 
and if this performance, 
amid the incessant roar 
of the orchestra and the ventilators, 
were to continue into 
the ever-expanding, gray future, 
accompanied by applause, 
which died down and then swelled up again, 
from hands which were really steam hammers, 
perhaps then a young visitor to the gallery 
might rush down the long stair case 
through all the levels, 
burst into the ring, and cry “Stop!” 
through the fanfares 
of the constantly adjusting orchestra.


But since things are not like that,
(Since things are not like that…rep.)         

since a beautiful woman, in white and red, 
flies in through curtains 
which proud men in livery open in front of her, 
since the director, 
devotedly seeking her eyes, 
breathes in her direction, 
behaving like an animal, and, as a precaution, 
lifts her up on the dapple-gray horse, 
as if she were his grand daughter, 
the one he loved more 
than anything else,
as she starts a dangerous journey, 
but he cannot decide to give the signal with his whip 
and finally, 
controlling himself, gives it a crack, 
runs right beside the horse with his mouth open, 
follows the rider's leaps with a sharp gaze, 
hardly capable of comprehending her skill, 
tries to warn her by calling out in English, 
furiously castigating the grooms holding hoops, 
telling them to pay the most scrupulous attention, 
and begs the orchestra, with upraised arms,
to be quiet before the great jump, 
finally lifts the small woman down from the trembling horse, 
kisses her on both cheeks, 
considers no public tribute adequate, 
while she herself, leaning on him, 
high on the tips of her toes, 
with dust swirling around her, 
arms outstretched and head thrown back, 
wants to share her luck with the entire circus—
since this is how things are, 
the visitor to the gallery puts his face on the railing and, 
sinking into the final march as if into a difficult dream, weeps, 
without realizing it.  (rep.)

Up In The Gallery (Kafka, 1919)

Lou6's The Game Deconstructed with Llanpsych backing.
Great open collab offer from IPG1

https://soundcloud.app.goo.gl/F3LoNkj9JADo4tho6

The Game Deconstructed -with IPG1

When the truth is, that it is impossible to love without being vulnerable

Loves Like That

Music, acousti guitar, lyrics & vocal : Snow Man Dave
Other instruments, second vocal & mix : PJ Project

Ode To The Miners W/ UK Man

Brosellian 23722

When I prepared for the green curtain, this song came to me 😊😊🐬🍉🌻🐶💖☕🌈🎵

#NewOriginalSong #goya

[Verse 1]
I love go, go, goya
I need go, go, goya
Strong against heat, weak against cold
My life depends on your heart
I love go, go, goya
I want go, go, goya
Strong against heat, weak against cold
My happiness depends on your smile

[Chorus]
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
It's hot, tropical Asian genes burn
Cool with C as 2 lemons
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
It's bitter, tropical Asian genes burn
You can match it with meat or dried bonito flakes

[Verse 2]
I love go, go, goya
I need go, go, goya
Just wait, no, that's no good
Mix it, yes, step on forward
I love go, go, goya
I want go, go, goya
I'll find you, you're shining
Our future depends on your courage

[Chorus]
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
It's hot, tropical Asian genes burn
Cool with C as 2 lemons
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
It's bitter, tropical Asian genes burn
You can match it with meat or dried bonito flakes

[Bridge]
Goya Chanpuru isn't the only one 
To make the most of me

[Chorus]
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
It's hot, tropical Asian genes burn
Cool with C as 2 lemons
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
It's bitter, tropical Asian genes burn
You can match it with meat or dried bonito flakes

Goya

... another attempt on breath controlled virtual instruments :-) all brass and brass hybrids played with Akai EWI - anyway all instruments by me, except a few percussion loops ... Enjoy my real blower with fake sheet metal ;-) ___ photo, John-Paul Rowe, unsplash

elephant trail / virtual brass

Back at my acoustic piano for my new song here! 😊🎹
Thank you so much to my lovely Sander for another gorgeous mastering job. @wane-of-summer 😊🎶❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

PERFECT SENSE (acoustic piano & vocals)

DRSK2

Phantom Noise appears somewhere 
Between darkness and light 
Where paths leads 
To the shadowing delight
Making electronica in various kind
Much in retrofuturistic space ambient style
Tune in, lean back and listen for a while

All songs produced and recorded by Phantom Noise.