Name: Closing In [Paces In My Room] by The Psychonauts in The Diary Of Dancy
Duration: 3 min 59 s
Description: Closing In [Paces In My Room]

The Diary Of Dancy

Beyond Time

As each November approaches I try to make my own little Remembrance-time tribute.  Seems more relevant as each year passes...

Following the huffing and puffing empire lunacy in the summer of 1914, the next four years would see 40 million casualties, half of them deaths and of those, half were civilian.  

40 million.

40 million tales of poignancy, pain, grief and human tragedy, through times that can often seem littered with coincidence, symmetries …. bookends and mirrors.

In the Military Cemetery of St Symphorien near Mons rests John Parr.  At only five foot three inches and several years under age he (amazingly) managed to enlist in 1912 - hoping to see the world, and get the advertised “two square meals” a day.  He was the first British Army casualty, killed in the battle of Mons aged just 17, his body left behind, fate unknown until much later in the conflict;  the army unable to answer his mother’s letters of enquiry about her “silent” son.

By pure coincidence, John lies just a few yards from the last British soldier to die in the great war.  George Ellison served for four long years including at the same first battle of Mons as John, and most of the famously grinding, attritional infantry battles of the conflict.  His working life bookended by military service, George had first enlisted in 1902, leaving the army in 1912, just as John joined, he became a coal miner, re-enlisting at the outbreak of war to dig mud not coal and fight from trenches he helped excavate.  George was killed just 90 minutes before the armistice took effect at 11:00 on the 11th day of the 11th month.  The futility of the conflict was cruelly illustrated by the fact that George’s war had started and ended at exactly the same place, Mons in Belgium.  They had literally gone nowhere.

As a postscript to progress since "the war to end all wars" the human race is currently reckoned to be engaged in 7 major wars, 15 significant ongoing conflicts and 21 “minor” conflicts (the latter defined as up to "only” 1000 deaths per year).  By way of another macabre bookend, the longest of these has been going on, unbelievably, since the year .... 1918.

As always, this simple ballad is offered as a live one mic one take effort - please excuse the fluffs and gaffes.
_______________________

Bookends and Mirrors

Sun turned cold ‘cross every sky in the summer of ‘14
The Good Lord shook his head, and he placed it in his hands
Braided declarations flying, whose like was never seen
Lunatics in feathers stockpiled lead, bagged their sand.
Slapstick Mephistopheles, unleashing of his flame
Spiral minds lobotomised in the waltz of the insane
Simple lives unknowing of the mud that would become
A mirror in the resting place of two Holy Mother’s sons.

Signed the line, five years young, fingers crossed behind his back
Chance to see the world, grab a future, two square meals.
At 17, John’s angels sung, first to fall in dawn’s attack
Abandoned and forgotten, deaf to all his ma’s appeals.
Never knew the miner, his bookend pal to be
Fighting down the line, many battles that he’d see
Full four years in trenches, George’s hell lived through them all
Cruelty was smiling wide at England’s last to fall.

In service time they travelled nowhere, nothing to achieve
Embracing 40 million weeping mothers left to grieve
The crime of puffing chest bravado beggared to believe
Hall of mirrors seeping others’ blood of the innocent naive.

Now John and George lie facing each to seek their mirrored peace
Raise my eyes and brim a tear for the lessons never learned
Pray God, don’t ever let them know man’s insanity but increased
The war to end all wars a mere sequel oft’ returned 
By comedies of leathered fools stuck on infinite repeat
Bemedalled and bejewelled, they prosecute their moral defeat
But here, on sallow turf twixt heroes, broken mirror in my broken hand
Met by my own broken eyes, I still fail to understand.
_________
Photo by Michael Yuan on Unsplash

Bookends and Mirrors

I Am Dancy

To Him I'm Just Like Sugar [Edit]

Back Out There

"Hey You [Softly Trembling]" is a tribute song to my first love who passed away from breast cancer far too early. Support research. Save lives.

Hey You [Softly Trembling]

RIPPLE IN THE POND

Universe in the mind, everything so big, makes a life feel so small

And you may live like a pauper or a banker
A kite without a string, setting sail without an anchor
Time just always seems to bend 

Sometimes it feels like a ripple in the pond
Just gets going then it’s gone
These days it feels like a ripple in the pond
Not big enough to be a wave, for very long . . . 

Make a splash, steal the spotlight
For a moment or a year
Swim against the waves, against this wind of fear
Time seems to bend

Sometimes it feels like a ripple in the pond
Just gets going then it’s gone
These days it feels like a ripple in the pond
Not big enough to be a wave, for very long . . .
- SOLO -
BRIDGE
Bugs on the windshield, what’s this future hell ?
Masters of theology, if only time would tell
Opposites attract, and magnets will repel
Spinning like a dancer , , , these are the riddles with no answer

Sometimes it feels like a ripple in the pond
Just gets going then it’s gone
These days it feels like a ripple in the pond
Not big enough to be a wave, for very long . . .

And there are hopes for transcendence . . . ya’ hopes of transcendence
Amid delusions of capability

Make some cash and live in style
Sell yourself some stories for a while
Does the end turn out the same, despite the character you gained ?
Time just seems to bend 

Sometimes it feels like a ripple in the pond
Just gets going then it’s gone
These days it feels like a ripple in the pond
Not big enough to be a wave, for very long . . .

And there are hopes for transcendence . . . ya’ hopes of transcendence
Amid delusions of capability

RIPPLE IN THE POND

2024-07-19

The Last Train Has Already Left

Closing In [Paces In My Room]

Staying Low

This track, 'Staying Low,' tells the poignant story of Dancy, a young girl who finds herself misunderstood and bullied during her early years. They call her "the sloth" for her slow, deliberate ways. Rather than fighting back, she prioritizes others, especially her younger brother, and retreats into a rich inner world where she can find solace and peace. Join Dancy as she navigates the hardships of her childhood through her vivid imagination and dreams.

Staying Low [Like the Falling Snow]

All instruments by me ....... real sax, vst trumpet, blown with windcontroller ....... Enjoy !

Vacuum

It's Everything With You

2024-08-23

On A Full Moon

I Believe In Ghosts (2019) Anthology CD4 Track 02

We're Breaking Through

Note: In light of the recent AI breakthroughs, we feel it's important to clarify that we've been working with voice modulation since the mid-1990s – originally inspired by David Bowie's album Outside. Our approach predates AI-driven tools and is rooted in treating the voice as an instrument, shaped and sculpted through earlier technologies.

We fully understand that questioning authenticity may not be the intention – but it's worth remembering that all electronic music is, by nature, mediated and transformed. Even Nietzsche pointed out how modern tools shape us: inserting paper into a typewriter already creates a distance that handwriting does not. Perhaps birdsong is the only truly authentic sound. 🐦

Writes original song lyrics and takes custom lyric requests under the artist name La Wi. This platform is also home to the creative collaborations of the Psychonaut Collective (The Psychonauts). Thank you for your support and appreciation.

Closing In [Paces In My Room]

The Psychonauts

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