PSYVE- FIRST SAMPLER

VISIONS 
(A Journey in Three Acts)

© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala


Act-1: The Leaving

To the land of my fathers I now must return:
You know, it’s not that I care to roam.
Leaving you here, by your wheel and your urn-
Leaving love, leaving life, leaving home…
Yet, as evening must follow the morn,
All those visions, once bright, are now gone;
And the dim light of dusk is now turning to dark,
Yet I know that I must carry on-
I must carry on…

Act-2: The Realisation

Chasing faint echoes of memory through time,
I must search in the hope that I find.
As I come down the mountain, it crosses my mind
That I seek what I have left behind.
And the brightening that comes before dawn,
Brings on visions of men dead and gone-
All those heroes of legend have taught us no wrong 
When they say we must persevere on-
We must persevere on…

Act-3: The Return

Retracing my footsteps through wind and through rain,
Knowing soon I’ll be dry, I’ll be warm-
Now, as I lie down beside you again,
I know that I have finally found home.
And the piper returns to his horn,
And the tillsman comes back to the corn,
And those visions of old, which once drove me so cold,
Have forever and finally gone-
Yes, they’ve finally gone…

VISIONS (A Journey in Three Acts)

PARTING SONG
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala


Why is it that I must always end the things I start?
And why am I the only one who takes these things to heart?
And why is it that you don’t feel a part of what I feel?
And can you tell me if my hurt is real?


Why is it I always give much more than I intend?
And why am I the one who always gets hurt in the end?
And why is it that I’m the one who must apologize?
Why is there no sadness in your eyes?
…Baby, why is there no sadness in your eyes?


(* Blues Harp track courtesy Soddy Bottoms)

PARTING SONG

TWO DAY HIGH
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala


Met only yesterday, unsettled the train:
Two-Day-High, hope we’re meeting again…
Dylan and Cohen and Bobby McGee,
Two-Day-High, you sure were like me.
I didn’t ask for you to come my way,
I’m asking you now, Two-Day-High, will you stay?
And, if you don’t want me, then don’t tell me why-
Just help me get rid of my Two-Day-High.


TWO-DAY-HIGH

DIDN'T THEY TELL YOU
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala

Aint  it funny how you sold your soul
For a paltry bit of miser's gold?
Your eyes have died; your face is made of wood…
Didn’t they tell you now of Judas,
Didn’t the tell you how he would as
Soon have paid back twice the sum, if he but could?

Didn’t they tell you what would happen
To a ship without its Cap'n?
To a man who goes through life without a friend?
Didn’t you know you should not do it?
Didn’t you know that you would rue it?
Didn’t you know you'd have to pay up in the end?

Didn’t they tell you you wouldn’t make it?
Didn’t they tell you you couldn’t take it?
Now you know you're slowly going around the bend-
And, like a lamb that goes to slaughter,
Like a fish that's out of water,
You know now that you have really reached the end…
 
(INTERLUDE)

Aint  it funny how you sold your soul
For a paltry bit of miser's gold?
Your eyes have died; your face is made of wood…
Didn’t they tell you now of Judas,
Didn’t the tell you how he would as
Soon have paid back twice the sum, if he but could?

DIDN'T THEY TELL YOU?

BEST OF FRIENDS
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala


We were lying in the grass,
We were talking of the past,
And I told you of my dad’s old steel rimmed glasses-
Then, you told me of the man 
With another in his hand,
And you couldn’t believe that he was making passes…


Then, you spoke to me of touch 
And you said it meant so much
To be touched when you are down or just plain lonely-
Now could that be the spark
Made you hold me in the dark-
Though you said you really loved your one and only…

Still, we’re the best of friends
And our friendship never ends,
It just grows deeper, though the river has its bends-
And, though I know
That you are another man’s,
Still, I thank the Lord that we’re the best of friends…

Side by side upon a plank,
Novice holding up the bank-
You’re like a stone, for reasons that you do not mention-
When you say you’d like to go,
I say: I’d really like to know:
Is it sleep, are you unsure of my intention?

A bit of both, you guess,
So I say: Well, thanks for being honest;
I’d like to see you once again before you go-
And, when you smile again
Oh, I am a happy man,
Though, now, that seems so very long ago…

Still, we’re the best of friends,
And our friendship never ends,
It just grows deeper, though the river has its bends-
And, though I know
That you are another man’s,
Still, I thank the Lord that we’re the best of friends…

FULL CIRCLE- REQUIEM FOR BENAZIR (WINDS OF CHANGE)

I recently saw  the movie "Roger Waters - The Wall (2014)" which had its worldwide premier end Sept 2015.

Based on Roger Waters' / Pink Floyd's classic album "The Wall", this movie too, I thought, was brilliantly conceived and executed.

I was inspired to record this song from that classic album.

NOBODY HOME
Roger Waters / Pink Floyd – The Wall

I've got a little black book with my poems in
Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I'm a good dog, they sometimes throw me a bone in
I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues
Got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from

I've got electric light
And I've got second sight          
And amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know
When I try to get through 
On the telephone to you
There'll be nobody home

I've got the obligatory Hendrix perm
And the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favourite satin shirt
I've got nicotine stains on my fingers.
I've got a silver spoon on a chain.
Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains

I've got wild staring eyes.
And I've got a strong urge to fly
But I got nowhere to fly to
Ooooh, babe….. when I pick up the phone                                                                                             
There's still nobody home…

I've got a pair of Gohills boots
And I’ve got fading roots…




NOBODY HOME (Roger Waters / Pink Floyd Cover)

ELDERBROC
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala

Smile at me again,
You know I am your friend,
Yet, you leave me not a candle in the dark;
Lady, I had reason 
To believe in changeless season,
And in dogs that do not bite and seldom bark…

Daughter of the Elderbroc,
Sister turned to wine,
Mother of my child and of my pain:
I tried to paint my seasons
To the colors of your reasons,
Devoid of rhyme, time and time again…

Did it happen so quickly that we missed it?
Did it happen so slow, that it was gone?
Now has come the day 
When I don’t know how to say:
How come your smiling motivations have turned to frowns?

Smile at me again,
You know I am your friend…

Elderbroc

...So here's a song that's definitely outside my comfort zone: this one is called Angie Baby and was originally released by Helen Reddy.

An old favorite of mine, this was recorded at home, over the course of an afternoon on 22nd Sept 2017


ANGIE BABY
( Helen Reddy Cover)


You live your life in the songs you hear
On the rock and roll radio
And when a young girl doesn't have any friends
That's a really nice place to go

Folks hoping you'd turn out cool
But they had to take you out of school
You're a little touched, you know
Angie baby

Lovers appear in your room each night
And they whirl you across the floor
But they always seem to fade away
When your daddy taps on your door

Angie girl, are you alright?
Tell the radio goodnight
All alone once more
Angie baby

Angie baby
You're a special lady
Living in a world of make believe
Well, maybe

Stopping at her house is a neighbor boy
With evil on his mind
'Cause he's been peeking in Angie's room
At the night through the window blind

I see your folks have gone away
Would you dance with me today
I'll show you how to have a good time
Angie baby 

When he walks in her room, he feels confused
Like he walked into a play
And the music's so loud it spins him around
Till his soul has lost its way

And as she turns the volume down
He's getting smaller with the sound
It seems to pull him off the ground
Toward the radio he's bound
Never to be found

The headlines read that a boy disappeared
And everyone thinks he died
'Cept a crazy girl with a secret lover
Who keeps her satisfied

It's so nice to be insane
No one asks you to explain
Radio by your side
Angie baby

Angie baby
You're a special lady
Living in a world of make believe
Well, maybe

Unknown album (22-Sep-17 11:21:36 PM)

Angie Baby (Helen Reddy Cover)

MEMORIES OF MOMENTS

Original Poem by                 :  Michael Rollins
Music and Performance by :  Cyrus Dali Vesuvala

Putting poetry to music has always been something I have been interested in. 

So, when Michael Rollins, a poet currently living in KSA, recently shared his new poem " Memories of Moments" on another site, on which both he and I are contributors, I took up the challenge. 

Here then is my interpretation in SONG of that beautiful poem, 
I have tried to stay faithful to the text of the original poem as much as possible, with only a few small tweaks made, with Michael's permission,  to allow the METER to flow as a lyric...

Hopefully the song still conveys  Michael's intent. 

(I am separately posting Michael's original poem below this lyric, for those who may be interested to read the original, and to understand how a poem gets converted into a lyric...)

MEMORIES OF MOMENTS (Song Version)

Original Poem by                 :  Michael Rollins
Music and Performance by :  Cyrus Dali Vesuvala

And through the night my soul escapes
‘Cross moonlit space and time
To memories of moments now
That hold a hidden rhyme

I met a woman, waiting, once
For someone else’s train
She kissed me on the lips, but I
Just never caught her name

And now, I wonder who she was
And if we’ll meet again
I can still feel her on my mouth
Like tears, like drops of rain

And through the night my soul escapes
‘Cross moonlit space and time
To memories of moments that
Still hold a hidden rhyme

I  met a woman, waiting for
A distant war to end
With eyes as sad as Jesus and
No one to call a friend

As I held her I saw images
Of broken empty lands
Of suffering beyond my ken
Of blood upon the sands

But  through the night my soul escapes
‘Cross moonlit space and time
To memories of moments that
Still hold a hidden rhyme

I met a woman, waiting, she  
Was  holding out her arms
Pleading for a stranger now
To clean her bloody palms

She was everybody’s mother,
Both innocent and damned
She has waited there forever for
The world to understand

And through the night my soul escapes
‘Cross moonlit space and time
To memories of moments that
Still hold a hidden rhyme.

===============================================

(Below is the text of the original poem by Michael Rollins)

Memories of Moments (Original poem version)
-------------------------------
And through the night my soul escapes
Across moonlit space and time 
To memories of moments
That hold a hidden rhyme

I once met a woman, waiting
For someone else’s train
She kissed me on the lips
But I never caught her name

And now, I wonder who she was
If we will ever meet again
I still feel her on my mouth
Like tears, like drops of rain

And through the night my soul escapes
Across moonlit space and time
To memories of moments
That hold a hidden rhyme

I once met a woman, waiting
For a distant war to end
She had eyes as sad as Jesus
And no-one to call a friend

As I held her I saw images
Of broken empty lands
Of suffering beyond my ken
Of blood upon the sands

And through the night my soul escapes
Across moonlit space and time
To memories of moments
That hold a hidden rhyme

I met a woman, waiting
She was holding out her arms
Pleading for a stranger
To clean her bloody palms

She was everybody’s mother
Both innocent and damned
She has waited there forever
For the world to understand

And through the night my soul escapes
Across moonlit space and time
To memories of moments
That hold a hidden rhyme

MEMORIES OF MOMENTS

So, after a bit of a hiatus, here's a new recording from last night (16th Feb 2018)

It's an interpretation of an old CSNY song "4+20"  from their 1970 album Deja Vu.

Though it runs on the same chord sequence, I've taken artistic liberty and changed the METER and FEEL of the original piece. 

This one is more.... brooding  bluesy.... for lack of a better description
.
.
4+20

Four and Twenty years ago
I come into this life
Son of a woman
And a man who lived in strife
He was tired of being poor
And he wasn't into selling door to door
And he worked like then devil to be more

A different kind of poverty now upsets me so
Night after sleepless night
I walk the floor and want to know
Why am I so alone?
Where is my woman, can I bring her home?
Have I driven her away?
Is she gone?

Morning comes the sunrise
And I'm driven to my bed
I see that it is empty
And there's devils in my head
I embrace the many colored beast
I grow weary of the torment
Can there be no peace?
And I find myself just wishing that my mind would cease

Unknown album (17-Feb-18 8:58:00 AM)

4+20  (An Interpretation of an old CSNY classic)

Cover of Chris Rea's "Road to Hell" 
performed and recorded at Manama on 23rd February 2018 
by Cyrus Dali Vesuvala ©
.
.

THE ROAD TO HELL
Chris Rea 
.
.
THE ROAD TO HELL (Part 1)
.
Stood still on a highway
I saw a woman
By the side of the road
With a face that I knew like my own
Reflected in my window
Well she walked up to my quarter light
And she bent down real slow
A fearful pressure paralysed me in my shadow

She said 'son what are you doing here
My fear for you has turned me in my grave'
I said 'mama I come to the valley of the rich
Myself to sell'
She said 'son this is the road to hell'

On your journey cross the wilderness
From the desert to the well
You have strayed upon the motorway to hell
.
.

THE ROAD TO HELL (Part 2)
.

Well I'm standing by the river
But the water doesn't flow
It boils with every poison you can think of

And I'm underneath the streetlight
But the light of joy I know
Scared beyond belief way down in the shadows

And the perverted fear of violence
Chokes the smile on every face
And common sense is ringing out the bell
This ain't no technological breakdown
Oh no, this is the road to hell

And all the roads jam up with credit
And there's nothing you can do
It's all just bits of paper flying away from you

Oh look out world, take a good look
What comes down here
You must learn this lesson fast and learn it well
This ain't no upwardly mobile freeway
Oh no, this is the road
This is the road
This is the road to hell

Unknown album (24-Feb-18 8:25:51 PM)

ROAD TO HELL (Chris Rea Cover)

A new version of "CHRISTMAS MORNING" recorded at home  on 20th April 2018.
The original song was written by me a long time ago in 8/4 meter but I decided to try this version in 6/4 meter.
As you will hear, some sparrows outside my window decided to add their voices to the recording....

This song was written just before dawn, early one December morning, in a freezing cold train compartment, on my way home from College, during one of the winter breaks. 
Those were the days when, like most other students I knew, I generally travelled by what was politely called 2nd Class 3-tier, which basically meant the bogey was unheated and the bunk beds were 3-tiered wooden planks without any cushioning. 
It was a 24 hour journey in those days, and less than comfortable, but, as I recall, it was more than just the hard bunk bed and freezing temperatures inside that compartment that had kept me up this particular night....

CHRISTMAS MORNING
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala

Train is slow,
Day is dawning-
Feeling low,
Can't stop yawning-
Four o'clock,
And I'm still up:
Christmas morning…

Dark ringed eyes,
Didn’t sleep now-
Quick good-byes,
I could weep now-
God, it's cold!
And I'm told
It's Christmas morning…

Christmas Morning (April 2018 version)

TRIGGER
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala
.
Hunting for that trigger
Ever since the well ran dry,
Locked in years of silence now
But even so he tries;
Yet the trigger still eludes him,
And his words they just won’t flow;
And though he’s loved her all these years, he 
Sometimes worries that she doesn’t know
.
That it’s only words that fail him
And though no words come along,
He hopes she knows that she has been 
His muse in every song;
Now around him Nature’s turning
And the leaves are turning brown,
And the music in his head is like the 
Shadows that now lengthen on the ground
.
And now, with Winter coming,
The trees will soon be bare,
His world has gone full circle,
Only he’s left standing there;
A solitary figure,
On a landscape bleak and grey.
Some days he feels he lost a part of 
His young self somewhere along the way…
.
And he cannot shake this feeling that a 
Part of him got lost, along the way…
.
.
(Recorded 23rd April 2018 & Mastered on 25th April 2018)

Monologue: A Tirade in Silence

TRIGGER

Have always loved Sting's songs and music.

This particular song by him is definitely one of my personal favourites, ever since I first heard it, around two decades ago.

For this cover version, I have experimented a bit by slowing the whole song down substantially and changing it from an 8/8 to a 6/8 meter... a sort of jazz-blues version....

Shape Of My Heart
(Original song by  Sting)

He deals the cards as a meditation
And those he plays never suspect
He doesn't play for the money he wins
He doesn't play for respect

He deals the cards to find the answer
The sacred geometry of chance
The hidden law of a probable outcome
The numbers lead a dance

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart

He may play the jack of diamonds
He may lay the queen of spades
He may conceal a king in his hand
While the memory of it fades

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart
That's not the shape
… of my heart

If I told her that I loved you
You'd maybe think there's something wrong
I'm not a man of too many faces
The mask I wear is one

But those who speak know nothing
And they find out to their cost
Like those who curse their luck in too many places
And those who fear have lost

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart
That's not the shape ……of my heart

Not the shape of my heart
That's not the shape of my heart

Shape Of My Heart (slowed-down cover of a song by Sting in 6/8 meter)

This is a cover of a song from the Rock Opera  "Jesus Christ Superstar" (original music by Andrew Lloyd Webber and lyrics by Tim Rice).  This particular song has always been one of my favourites from that Rock Opera.

Cyrus Vesuvala
Gurugram, 21st February 2020

PILATE'S DREAM
© music:  Andrew Lloyd Webber 
© lyrics:   Tim Rice.

I dreamt I met a Galilean
A most amazing man
He had that look you very rarely find
The haunting, hunted kind

I asked him to say what had happened
How it all began
I asked again; he never said a word
As if he hadn't heard

And next the room was full
Of wild and angry men
They seemed to hate this man
They fell on him and then
They disappeared again

Then I saw thousands of millions
Crying for this man
And then I heard them mentioning my name
And leaving me the blame

Pilate's Dream (Cover of song from "Jesus Christ Superstar" by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice)

Kintsugi is the ancient and beautiful Japanese tradition of mending broken pottery using  gold or silver solder. 

When I first heard this song by Becky Thomas (Rebecca Milkwood)some years ago, I was completely blown away. The lyric and the overall atmosphere of that original recording were quite amazing.

Thought I'd record my own interpretation of that song today. …

CYRUS DALI VESUVALA
Gurugram
14th March 2020

KINTSUGI
Becky Thomas

You stood by the shoreline, feeling the undertow
I know you were smiling, thinking about where the currents go
You've been trying, you've been swimming against the flow
Seems like you're done fighting, seems like you're letting go

Funny how rope is a sentence when it's strung from the gallows
But it's a lifeline, a lifeline when you've drifted from the shallows

Well hold on, hold on and I will try to keep your head above the water
Hold on, hold on and I will keep you from going under, from going under

I've seen your fighting sprit, and I've seen you take it all on
Seen you crash into your limits, like a bird dashed against the rocks
Well precious things get broken sometimes, sometimes
But the scars that tell the story are the scars that you don't disguise

Funny how glass looks like diamonds when it shatters
Your heart, your heart looks like ribbons when it's in tatters

Hold on, hold on and I'll breathe life into you again
And your heart, your heart will fly like ribbons in the wind

And when the cracks in your soul are beginning to show
I will mend them with silver, I will mend them with gold

And when the cracks in your soul are beginning to show
I will mend them with silver, I will mend them with gold

And when the cracks in your soul are beginning to show
I will mend them with silver, I will mend them with gold

Kintsugi (Cover of song by Becky Thomas/ Rebecca Milkwood)

A singer-songwriter, with over four decades of songwriting experience, currently based in Gurugram, India 

Psyve

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