Love this!! Great vibe right from the get go! I think it has a 'Spirit of the West' feel. Nice work!

Another superb track, superb arrangement and such a wonderful voice!!

I play this occasionally with a bud and my wife.  Your voice gives it toal authority!

At the age of 12, I fell madly in love with the spindly Brigitte, who lived with her parents in the house next door. Unfortunately, she did not return my love, but had eyes exclusively for David Cassidy, the then mega-girl crush and star of the series "Partridge Family". In my still very childish imagination and jealousy, I made elaborate plans to secretly cross over to America in a plane. There unnoticed murder David Cassidy during one of the series rehearsals and after my return to Germany, the then inconsolable Brigitte close in my arms and she can have then all alone for me.  
When these sometimes obsessive thoughts tormented me too much, I put on "It`s only Love"; the second song from the B-side of "Help", my very first record album by the Beatles.
And as soon as John Lennon intoned the refrain "It`s only love and that is all, why should I feel the way I do..." in his wonderfully haunting voice, I immediately calmed down and found a deep comfort within myself. 
A good 40 years later, this old story caught up with me again when my son told me that he was pining over a young woman living in his neighborhood, but that she was completely ignoring him.  
This "eternal return of the same" made my cover version of "It`s only Love" rise up in me. - The result to be heard here has been, as always with my covers, vigorously turned through the Karlit-O-Kay mill....   

Mit 12 Jahren verliebte ich mich unsterblich in die spindeldürre  Brigitte, die mit Ihren Eltern im Nachbarshaus wohnte. Leider erwiderte sie meine Liebe nicht, sondern hatte ausschließlich Augen für David Cassidy, dem damaligen Mega-Mädchenschwarm und Star der Serie "Partridge Family". In meiner noch sehr kindlichen Phantasie und Eifersucht schmiedete ich ausgeklügelte Pläne, wie ich heimlich in einem Flugzeug nach Amerika hinübersetze. Dort unbemerkt David Cassidy bei einem der Serienproben ermorde und nach meiner Rückkehr nach Deutschland, die dann untröstliche Brigitte in meine Arme schließe und sie dann ganz alleine für mich haben kann.  
Wenn mich diese mitunter obsessiven Gedanken zu sehr quälten, legte ich "It`s only Love" auf; das zweite Lied von der B-Seite von "Help", meinem allerersten Platten-Album von den Beatles.
Und sobald John Lennon mit seiner wunderbar eindringlichen Stimme den Refrain "It`s only love and that is all, why should I feel the way I do..." anstimmte, beruhigte mich dies sofort und ich fand  einen tiefen Trost in mir. 
Gut 40 Jahre später holte mich diese alte Geschichte wieder ein, als mir mein Sohn erzählte, dass er eine in seiner Nachbarschaft lebende junge Frau anschmachtet, sie ihn aber komplett ignorieren würde.  
Diese "ewige Wiederkehr des Gleichen" ließ in mir meine Cover-Version von "It`s only Love" aufsteigen. - Das hier zu hörende Ergebnis ist wie immer bei meinen Covers kräftig durch die Karlit-O-Kay-Mühle gedreht worden....

It`s only love (Cover-Version)

It´s Only Love (Cover-Version)

Light Within me - Cass Dvorak

And I don't know just what to do, the dark within me's showin' through
But words you gave me still ring true, between good and bad we all still choose.

Light within me hold it back, just fill the cracks in that I lack
And I can face the next attack, and shine the light into the black.

Under the surface lurks the beast, it ruins worlds when its released
and measures us from best to least, in how we keep it on the leash.

Light within me hold it back, just fill the cracks in that I lack
But I can face the next attack, and shine the light into the black.

In written stories passed through time, the monster's always hold the line
and we all act like we're all fine, while hiding demons in our minds...

Light within me hold it back, just fill the cracks in that I lack
But I can face the next attack, shine the light into the black.

Light within me hold it back, just fill the cracks in that I lack
But I can face the next attack, bring the light into the black.

Light Within Me

Introduction in English:

A few years ago, there was a young man living in my neighborhood who had just been abandoned by his wife. He would often come over to me and cry to me about his supposedly evil and inconsiderate wife. Increasingly, he got on my nerves with his self-pitying "I'm the victim" whining. 
At some point, during one of our conversations, he came to the conclusion that he had actually wanted the separation himself for a long time, but was simply too comfortable and cowardly to make the cut. Slowly, it seemed to him that he was letting his wife do the "dirty work" so that he could rant about her afterwards and blame her for the relationship's misery. 
Not an isolated case, but among men (....and I don't exclude myself) still too much the rule when it comes to working up the responsibilities for the failure of a relationship.
Thef following song is an attempt to take the self-pity of some men in a occasionally very self-deprecating way on the grain....    

Lyrics in English:

Self-pity (I feel pity for myself) 

I sit in the pub and stare at myself,
I wonder what I was born to do

I'm navel gazing 
I'm lonely without a woman

I feel pity for myself

I have no time for anything else but me.

I look out of the window, the clouds are looking at me,
The sun has decided that it doesn't like me

Lady luck spurns me,
My globe does not turn

I feel so pity for myself, (pity, pity, I feel so pity for myself)

I have no time for anything else but me

The blind date last night was a flop as usual 
(Flop, flop, a terrible flop)
Why is life (why?) so cruel to me, so nasty, so rough, so rude?

I stand in the street, hitchhiking away from here
Looking for happiness far away, it doesn't come to me

No one takes me with them
Already I hear my hit:

I feel so pity for myself, (shit, shit, shit, shit)

I really don't have time for anything else but me.

At the dance class the women (the women) pass me by purposefully,
(Bye, bye, my "dummy" goodbye)
Which hen, they think, laid this rotten egg...in our nest.

Uuh!

I'm going to the monastery, I'm going to become a hermit
I'll pray in front of the altar that God will finally see me,

Meanwhile, my sacrificial candle goes out

I feel so pity for myself, (so poor boy)

I really, really don't have time for anything else but me


Deutscher Originaltext:

Selbst-Mitleid (Ich tu mir leid)

Ich sitze in der Kneipe und stiere vor mich hin
ich frage mich, wozu ich überhaupt geboren bin.

Betreib` Nabelschau
Bin einsam, ohne Frau

Ich tu mir leid

Für was andres außer mir, habe ich keine Zeit

Ich schaue aus dem Fenster, die Wolken schauen mich an
Die Sonne hat beschlossen, dass sie mich nicht leiden kann

Die Glücksfee verschmäht mich
Mein Erdball dreht sich nicht

ich tu mir so leid, (leid, leid, ich tu mir so leid)

Für was andres außer mir hab` ich leider keine Zeit.

Der Blind Date gestern Abend war wie immer ein Flop
(Flop, Flop, ein furchtbarer Flop)
Warum ist das Leben (warum?) zu mir, so grausam, so böse, so grob, so grob?

Ich stehe auf der Straße und trampe fort von hier
Such‘ Glück weit in der Ferne, es kommt ja nicht zu mir

Mich nimmt keiner mit
Schon hör ich meinen Hit:

ich tu mir so leid, (shit, shit, shit, shit)

Für was andres außer mir hab` ich nun wirklich keine Zeit

Beim Tanzkurs gehen die Frauen (die Frauen) gezielt an mir Vorbei (bye, bye, my „Dummy“ goodbye)
Welche Henne, denken sie sich, legte uns dieses faule Ei…ins Nest

Uuh!

Ich gehe jetzt ins Kloster, ich wird zum Eremit
ich bete vorm Altar, dass Gott  mich endlich sieht

Meine Opferkerze geht derweilt aus

ich tu mir so leid (so poor boy)

Für was andres außer mir habe ich nun wirklich, ja nun wirklich keine Zeit

Selbst-Mitleid (Self-Pity)

Selbst - Mitleid (Self - Pity)

Introduction in English:

My Jewish mother spent her life trying to suppress her traumatic childhood in the Shanghai ghetto. She survived the Holocaust there under the most inhumane conditions. 
On one day she did not succeed in repressing it. She visited the Jewish Museum with me in Berlin. When she entered the "Room of Exile", her whole body began to tremble. Tears and the pain that had been held back for decades literally burst out of her. She then left this room almost like a flight and could only with difficulty be calmed down again by me and brought back to the present. 
This event and the attempt to put myself in the deeply wounded Jewish soul of my mother, which lay open for a moment in the "room of exile", inspired me to write this song. 

Introduction in German:

Meine jüdische Mutter hat ihr Leben lang immer wieder versucht, ihre traumatische Kindheit im Ghetto von Shanghai zu verdrängen. Sie hat dort den Holocaust unter menschenunwürdigsten Bedingungen überlebt. 
An einem Tag gelang ihr das verdrängen nicht. Sie besuchte mit mir in Berlin das jüdische Museum. Als Sie den "Raum des Exils" betrat, begann ihr ganzer Körper zu zittern. Aus ihr brachen regelrecht die Tränen und der jahrzehntelang immer wieder zurückgehaltene Schmerz heraus. Sie verließ dann geradezu fluchtartig diesen Raum und konnte nur mit Mühe wieder von mir beruhigt und in die Gegenwart zurückgebracht werden. 
Dieses Ereignis und der Versuch, mich in die tief verwundete jüdische Seele meiner Mutter hineinzuversetzen, die für einen Moment im "Raum des Exils" offenlag, hat mich zu diesem Song inspiriert.

From The Middle Of My Jewish Soul

Introduction in English:

Germany in the 1960s was still very much influenced by the Nazi stink. Violence and black pedagogy still prevailed in families. Beatings and spankings were part of the natural educational repertoire of parents. 
Unfortunately, my father and mother also joined this then socially accepted community of thugs.   
In this often ominous and latently threatening time, Doris Day was for me the ideal projection screen for a world full of harmony, clarity and lightness. 
Since my parents basically loved me (they themselves had been traumatized by terrible experiences of violence in Nazi Germany and, due to a lack of suitable trauma therapies at the time, unconsciously went from being victims to perpetrators when beating us children), they took my childhood crushes on Doris Day seriously and at some point gave in to my urging to write her a (fictitious) letter from Germany.... 
As an adult, I distanced myself from my childhood crush on Doris Day for a long time, since critical film analyses tended to portray her as a representative of superficial, shallow and pseudo-harmonic acting and song art. 
Then I saw her again a good ten years ago at the „Berlinale“ in a documentary with Rock Hudson and his HIV infection at the beginning of 1985. Nobody wanted to get Hudson, whose HIV infection was diagnosed in Moscow, out of there and bring him back to the U.S. by plane. Most were afraid of becoming infected themselves. 
Not so Doris Day. She, along with several other actors, organized the flight back. And when Rock Hudson, who was already seriously ill with AIDS, stepped out of the plane after landing in the U.S., she demonstratively stood next to him and put her arm around him. Even today, tears come to my eyes when I think of this unique gesture of solidarity and loyalty. 
Since that magical moment in a Berlin movie theater, Doris Day has become immortal to me. 
And I can only say: I was not at all mistaken in my early love for her....

Lyrics in English

My Blond Angel

When I was a little boy 
Just a meter high 
I fell in love with your blond hair 
That always smelled like cinnamon stars to me

I'd watch TV in the afternoon and then I'd see you 
As you came on the screen
You were pure harmony, clinically pure, high polish
You exuded carefree elegance

No one believed I could fall in love like that
Little boys are supposedly not ready for that yet

But I suffered, I pined, I was sick with love
My blond angel from the faraway land

My parents told me she lives far away from here
In the great wide U.S.A.
Her name is Doris Day and she'd already have
A husband to take care of her

But I wouldn't give up
I cried and cried until my parents realized
They found out her residence and address
And after my continued insistence,

I dictated a love letter to them both
My father translated it for her

He threw it in for me, I was still too little for that
My blond angel from the faraway land

When I sat in front of the screen the following weeks
She looked at me differently
She looked quite in love, my letter seduced her
Since then I was her little husband

For a long time I was ashamed of this love
But recently I saw her
More magical than ever
For me she remains a shining light
I love her

Mein Blonder Engel (My Blond Angel)

Poncho and Lefty Towns Van Zandt Cover

Some people carry around a secret, a carefully buried basic feeling or a wish that is locked away deep in the abyss of their soul. Often it is only when death is already in the doorway that they can bring up and communicate what has been hidden for so long.  
This is also what happened in this true story, in which a man can only tell his wife how he really feels about her just before he dies of cancer. 

Lyrics in English:

The Last Words

I'm lying here in hospice
Eaten up by cancer

I'm at stage four
I'm about to be killed 
Can't see anything more

My body fully tattooed
Now as skeletonized
My fitness-treated muscles

Mercilessly pureed 
I've never felt so strong
Yeah, I must be losing myself as a hero   

You sit at the edge of the bed
Swimming in a sea of tears
Yes this softness is incredibly difficult for me

You cried for me
Rhymed the most beautiful funeral poems for me
Lived for me the pain
With noble dignity

I'm stuck in a tank dress
Even in the deepest suffering
Can't I tell you how I feel

Fuck!
I'm a John Wayne idiot

I'm as good as dead
And it wants out
I push, cramp, swallow:
I love you

Don't look at me like that
I really mean it

There is no more repetition
I just die now
Please let me go

Somewhere in the next life
Let's meet for a beer
I promise you that
But please stay for a very long time- 

There!
Get the fuck out of here
I'm already dead in my grave

Cancer has won
Got me down

OKAY
No more fighting

I'm leaving now ahead of schedule
Cancer has freed me
Come black brother, take me with you
Wherever to go

Deutscher Originaltext:

Die letzten Worte

Lieg` hier im Hospiz
Vom Krebs zerfressen

Bin im Stadium 4
Gleich ist`s um mich geschehen 
Kann nichts mehr sehen

Mein Körper voll tätowiert
Nun wie skelettiert
Meine Fitness-gestählten Muckies

Gnadenlos püriert
Hab`mich noch nie so stark gespürt
Ja muß mich wohl als Held verlier`n

Du sitzt am Bettrand
Schwimmst im Tränenmeer
Ja dieses Weiche fällt mir unglaublich schwer

Hast für mich geweint
Die schönsten Trauergedichte gereimt
Lebtest für mich den Schmerz
Mit edler Würde

Steck´ im Panzerkleid
Selbst im tiefsten Leid
Kann ich Dir nicht sagen, was ich fühle

Fuck!
Bin ein John-Wayne-Idiot!

Bin so gut wie tot
Und es will heraus

Ich presse, krampfe, schlucke:
Ich liebe Dich

Schau`mich nicht so an
Ja das mein` ich wirklich

Ein nochmal gibts nicht mehr
Ich sterb` jetzt einfach
Lass` mich bitte gehen

Irgendwo im nächsten Leben
Treffen wir uns mal auf`n Bier

Das versprech` ich Dir
Doch bitte bleib` jetzt noch ganz lange – 

Hier!
Hau jetzt endlich ab
Lieg` schon tot im Grab

Der Krebs hat gesiegt
Hat mich untergekriegt

O.K.
Kein Kämpfen mehr

Geh` jetzt vor der Zeit
Der Krebs hat mich befreit

Komm nimm mich schwarzer Bruder
Egal wohin

Die Letzten Worte (The Last Words)

Die Letzten Worte (The Last Words) (Engl. Lyrics In The Intro)

In the Corona crisis I experience the world like a kind of monastery. On the one hand connected with much renunciation and privations, with restrictions and abstinence. On the other hand, however, offering one the chance to learn to be amazed again in the silence and seclusion that results from the worldwide regulations. To have time to really let oneself be touched by something that has so far been hastily pressed into blinker-categories. To be surprised by revelations that must have remained hidden in the everyday functioning.    
To be able to say "Wow!" again in every cell of one' s body, however, also requires sometimes to free oneself completely from the now omnipresent digital availability. Unfortunately, the crisis leads partly there even more into digital obsessions. But even there I hope that at some point the weariness after the increasing dullness in the X-th Netflix series, among others, will set in and the desire for real encounters will come forward. 

Lyrics in English:

Wow!

Sit` here in the park without urge 
Without pressure, have plenty of time, don't start nothing

Just there, I look out
The mustiness in me turns out

There is a lake in front of me
That I usually walk by
Always seemed to look the same

Give me away
Soon I am in the thick of it

Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!

In the silence the spells
In the quietness the wonders of the world

I'm totally exempt from duties
My phone is asleep

Completely freed from availability and digital suffering

My coffee machine is yawning heavily
Nothing that pushes me is working now

The world is lying down
There is no escape

The hectic reflexes: Off!

Give me away
Soon I am in the thick of it

Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!

In the silence the spells
In the quietness the wonders of the world


Deutscher Originaltext:

Wow!

Sitz` hier im Park ohne Drang, 
Ohne Druck, hab` viel Zeit, fang` nichts an

Bin einfach da, schau` hinaus
Das Müssen in mir stellt sich aus

Vor mir liegt ein See, 
An dem ich sonst vorübergeh`

Schien immer gleich auszusehen

Gebe mich hin
Und bin bald mittendrin

Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!

Im Stillen die Zauber
Im Schweigen die Wunder der Welt

Bin ganz von Pflichten befreit
Mein Handy schläft
Ganz erlöst von Verfügbarkeit und digitalem Leid

Meine Kaffemaschine gähnt schwer
Nichts was mich puscht geht jetzt mehr

Die Welt legt sich hin
Es gibt kein Entflieh`n

Die Hektik-Reflexe. Aus!

Gebe mich hin
Und bin bald mittendrin

Wow! Wow! Wow!Wow! Wow!

Im Stillen die Zauber
Im Schweigen die Wunder der Welt

Wow!

Wow! (English Lyrics In The Intro)

Composition: Karlit-O-Kay
Acoustic-Guitar and Vocals: Karlit-O-Kay
All other instruments, Production and Sound-Mix: Karin-Maria Brunner.
At this point: Special thanks to Karin-Maria, for her very own careful, patient and prudent approach to the production of the song

When I met my wife almost 25 years ago, none of my friends and relatives gave a single damn about this relationship. We were quarrelling often and got into each other's hair over every little thing.
Interestingly however, some couples, who at that time were somewhat complacent about their great harmony, are no longer together today. At some point, so much conflict dirt had accumulated under the flowery carpet, that the permanent smile turned into hostility, contempt and finally: Separation. 
My wife and I still quarrel today - although not as intensely and often as before. But then as now these sometimes painful disputes often lead to a an even deeper and more tender encounter. 
In view of this dialectic, I had the idea of naming this song, which describes our relationship, "Wild Harps". 

Wild Harps

No, that's not possible
No, it can't be 
These perennial squabblers 
Can't even be together anymore

Always murder and mayhem 
With a lot of screaming and door slamming
Come on, don't tell me lies 
That's all over and done with already

Ooh no, it's true
Wild Harps
Do they stick together 
This couple, that lives 
In spite of minor scratches 

I bet it goes on forever
Even further

Many friends thought 
They won't last long
How they clashed
The safety fuse is about to blow

Harmony and peace 
Was a foreign word for them
Many marriages have been divorced 
But they survived every relationship murder

Ooh yes, it's true
Wild Harps
Do they stick together 
This couple, that lives 
Even with small scratches 

I bet, that this forever...
I bet, that this forever...
I bet, that this forever...

...Goes on

... That this goes on
Bet, bet...
...That this goes on
Bet, bet...
...That this goes on

Deutscher Originaltext:

Wilde Harfen

Nein, das gibt`s doch gar nicht
Nein, das kann nicht sein
Diese ewigen Streithammel 
Können doch gar nicht mehr zusammensein

Ständig Mord und Todschlag 
Mit viel Geschrei und Türenknall`n
Komm erzähl mir keine Lügen
Das ist doch schon längst aus und vorbei

Ooh nein, es ist wahr
Wilde Harfen
Halten die zusammen 
Dieses Paar, das lebt 
Trotz kleiner Schrammen 

Wetten, dass das noch ewig weitergeht
Noch weitergeht

Viele Freunde dachten 
Das halten die nicht lange aus
Wie die aufeinander krachten
Da fliegt die Sicherung doch gleich raus

Harmonie und Frieden
War für die beiden ein Fremdwort
Viele Ehen wurden schon geschieden 
Doch sie überlebten jeden Beziehungsmord

Ooh ja, es ist wahr
Wilde Harfen
Halten die zusammen 
Dieses Paar, das lebt 
Trotz kleiner Schrammen. 

Wetten, dass das noch ewig weiter…
Wetten, dass das noch ewig weiter…
Wetten, dass das noch ewig weiter…

….Geht

….daß das noch weitergeht
Wetten, Wetten…
…daß das noch weitergeht
Wetten, Wetten…
…daß das noch weitergeht

Together with Karin-Maria Brunner

Widle Harfen (Wild Haprs)

Wilde Harfen

Wilde Harfen (Wild Harps) (Engl. Lyrics In The Intro)

One of my best friends ended up in a closed psychiatric ward a few years ago after a psychotic episode. He stayed there for a total of eight months. And I visited him there almost every week. 
I met doctors and nurses there who lovingly and empathetically cared for the mentally ill people on the ward. 
Nevertheless, despite all the commitment, the feeling remained that the patients were often separated from the helpers by an invisible wall. That the patients lived in a world which remained to a large extent strange and incomprehensible to the doctors, nurses and also relatives (as it did for me as the best friend). 
This basic feeling gave the impulse for the title of this song and the following lyrics. 

You don‘t know them

They sit under the water tap
The dull madness is reflected in their face

They have been declared insane 
Deflowered and dishonoured

Locked in a darkroom
With the label „Not worth living“

Their language is as a word salad
Banished to the madhouse

And I yell at them:
You commit slander against them
You degrade them to slaughter cattle
And again and again and again I scream:

You don't know them!

They were sent to the desert ice 
Far from the divine circle of life

Even as a child they were abandoned 
In their soul indelibly wounded

Their parents have turned away, 
They have never known this scum

The community sits at the table of gifts 
High shut, doors closed.

And I yell at them:
You commit slander against them
You degrade them to slaughter cattle
And again and again and again I scream
And again and again and again I scream
And again and again and again I scream:
You don't know them!

Einer meiner besten Freunde landete vor einigen Jahren nach einem psychotischen Schub in der geschlossenen Psychiatrie. Insgesamt acht Monate blieb er dort. Und ich besuchte ihn dort fast jede Woche. 
Ich begegnete dort Ärzten und Pflegern, die sich liebevoll und einfühlsam um die psychisch kranken Menschen auf der Station kümmerten. 
Dennoch blieb bei allem Engagement das Gefühl zurück, dass die Patienten häufig eine unsichtbare Wand von den Helfern trennte. Dass die Patienten in einer Welt lebten, die zu einem guten Teil für die Ärzte, Pfleger und auch Angehörigen (wie für mich als bester Freund) fremd und unverstehbar blieb. 
Dieses Grundgefühl gab den Anstoß für den Titel dieses Songs und den darauf basierenden Text.

Ihr kennt sie nicht

Sie sitzen unterm Wasserhahn
Im Gesicht spiegelt sich der dumpfe Wahn

Man hat sie verrückt erklärt, 
Entjungfert und entehrt

In einer Dunkelkammer eingesperrt
Mit dem Etikett nicht lebenswert

Ihre Sprache wird als Wortsalat
In das Irrenreich verbannt

Und ich schrei sie an:
Ihr rufmordet sie 
Ihr degradiert sie zum Schlachtvieh
Und wieder und wieder schrei ich:
Ihr kennt sie nicht!

Man schickte sie ins Wüsteneis 
Weit entfernt vom göttlichen Lebenskreis

Schon als Kind hat man sie ausgesetzt, 
In der Seele unauslöschbar verletzt

Ihre Eltern haben sich abgewandt 
Diesen Abschaum haben sie doch nie gekannt

Die Gemeinschaft sitzt am Gabentisch 
Hochgeschlossen, Türen zu

Und ich schrei sie an:
Ihr rufmordet sie 
Ihr degradiert sie zum Schlachtvieh
Und wieder und wieder schrei ich
und wieder und wieder schrei ich
und wieder und wieder schrei ich:
Ihr kennt sie nicht!

You don`t know them

You Don´t Know Them

What would John Lennon have said at that time? Late last year, I was strumming away on my son's keyboard some weekend. And somehow the old chords of the legendary Lennon song "Nowhere Man" came along. As if he had commissioned me to do it, I then developed my own version of this classic. 
The first three lines of the ingenious song lyrics alone get to the heart of how more or less everyone might feel in this time of transition, where no one really knows where the journey is going.  

Was hätte wohl John Lennon zu dieser Zeit gesagt? Ende letzten Jahres klimperte ich an irgendeinem Wochenende auf dem Keyboard meines Sohnes herum. Und irgendwie kamen die alten Akkorde des  legendären Lennon-Songs "Nowhere Man" daher. Als hätte er mich damit beauftragt, entwickelte ich daraufhin meine eigene Version dieses Klassikers. 
Allein die ersten drei Zeilen des genialen Liedtextes bringen auf den Punkt, wie sich mehr oder weniger jeder in dieser Übergangszeit fühlen mag, in der keiner so recht weiß, wohin die Reise geht.

Nowhere Mann

Nowhere Man (Cover-Version)

Thanks for stopping by...….All tunes performed ,recorded and mixed by me via multi-track.  No one to blame but me.  Enjoy...……..

Poncho and Lefty Towns Van Zandt Cover

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