℗ © Copyright Ian Stokes. All Rights Reserved
Recorded and mixed using Logic. Mastered in Soundcloud
Photography: Thanks go to Nigel and Libby Hume at Hume Photography.

This acoustic guitar instrumental is played in DADGAD tuning (all tuned down a half step)using my Taylor 714 CE guitar.

The Dance

Compressed Air

Cascades

Beautiful Girl

I live in a country where, for example:

•	A new “animal welfare” bill will ensure that around 100 million sentient animals each year will suffer extreme, prolonged trauma and pain as they are slaughtered without having first been stunned.  This is in order to respect minority religious beliefs.
•	Male convicted child abusers and rapists who decide to “identify as a woman” have the right to serve their sentences in women-only prisons so that their rights are not compromised.
•	The desperate, hysterical craving for universal “equality” manifests itself in obscene levels of positive discrimination to deliver race / gender etc "quotas".
•	Ransoms of hundreds of millions of pounds are paid to crass despotic theocracies to release hostages – money that will fund the development of nuclear programmes that those state-agents of god intend to deploy for the obliteration of neighbouring countries and their cultures.
•	A high ranking female politician declines the invitation to define what a woman is, for fear of “being dragged down a rabbit hole”.
•	Police and local government services turn a blind eye to industrial scale sexual abuse of vulnerable young girls to avoid stirring racial tensions.
•	It is decreed that if we can’t buy our oil from a thief we may as well buy it from a murderer as pumping our own plentiful supplies locally may offend environmentalists.
•	Ad infinitum.

The country I live in used to be called England.

Last night I read her the last rights, sang her this little poem I made up for her and cradled her as she slipped fitfully away.

I didn’t bother to mark the grave.
___________________________________________________________________

The Cold Blooded Murder Of Albion

Whisper, sweet love,
Did you feel any hurt,
As they hacked at your heart
With their blunt knives of dirt?
Love of my life!
Did you feel any pain?
As they raised up their rocks
To stone your brain.

The true paragon of fair
Balanced and just.
Slain by dogmas of air
Lunatic liberal lust.
I’ll lullaby your dead heart
That pulmonary shocks can’t restart
We’re history consigned,
To bedlam resigned.
But I’d rather rot dead
Than wake in a contemporary bed
Of moral principle smoothies
In a world that eschews me.
Hush, don’t make a fuss, there’s no need to discuss
Spinning whirlpools of statuesque dust
All relics of pride, I’ve laid delicately aside
In simple disgust.

The Cold Blooded Murder Of Albion

Time To Myself

Piano with Spoken words/poetry by Marcel/Niva Music 17 nov 2025

Solvine

This song is about the moment a man finally stops resisting the truth he’s felt his whole life.
A truth carried not in sermons or headlines, but in the wind, in the quiet, ancient voice that rises from the land itself.

It’s the sound of Echo hearing what his father once knew,
what his mother carried in her blood,
what the ancestors whispered long before he was born.

It’s the confession that we didn’t embrace the old ways… we erased them,
and the realization that the path forward may actually bend back
toward the harmony, humility, and balance we abandoned.

This is the moment Echo steps into who he was meant to be 
not through politics, not through ambition,
but by listening to the earth beneath his feet.

When the wind finally speaks… he’s ready to hear it.


[Verse 1 ]

I heard a voice in the wind today,
Calling my name in a quiet way.
I shook it off like a passing storm,
But something in me wouldn’t stay warm.

I’ve built a life on climbing high,
A future carved in stone and sky
But now the world feels paper-thin,
And something ancient pulls me in.

[Pre-Chorus – The Whisper]

I tried to ignore it, pushed it aside,
But the wind kept knocking from the other side…

[Chorus – The Message Begins]

“We didn’t embrace the old ways,
We erased them,” the wind seemed to say.
“The land remembers what we forgot
Balance broken, harmony lost.”

And I don’t know why it hit so deep
Why a whisper could wake what I tried to keep
Buried low…
Where no one knows…
What the wind tried to tell me.

[Verse 2 – Bill’s Voice in Memory]

I heard my father’s voice somewhere,
Soft as dust in the summer air:
“Son, we belong to the land, you see…
Not the other way, that’s the key.”

I always brushed him off as old,
A man with stories carved in gold.
But now those words that made no sense
Are haunting every argument.

[Pre-Chorus – Echo Fighting It]

I’m a man with plans, a rising name
Why should I listen to wind or flame?

[Chorus – Wind Grows Stronger]

But “We didn’t embrace the old ways,
We erased them,” the wind kept saying.
“The earth won’t heal til you understand
You’re part of her. She’s not your land.”

And somewhere inside, though I tried to hide,
Something cracked open wide…
When the wind tried to tell me.

[Bridge – The Pendulum Tilt]

Maybe the truth isn’t loud or grand,
Maybe it comes like a drum through the sand
A heartbeat low, beneath our feet,
A memory rising when we feel defeat.

I don’t know what I’m meant to be
A leader, a voice, or a refugee
From everything I used to believe…
But the wind keeps calling me.

[Final Chorus – Acceptance Begins]

“We didn’t embrace the old ways,
We erased them…”
Now I hear it clear as day.
And maybe this path I chose to claim
Is bending back toward my father’s flame.

I’m not ready
But I’m listening…
To what the wind
Is telling me.

What the Wind Tried to Tell Me

A rambling guitar fest,an overindulgent lyrical example of cereal box religion and home grown philosophy. Still,it's pretty short!

We've been here a million times
The wheel will turn again

Don't think of life in absolutes
To succeed or fail
We are merely players
In a futile tale

I have no pretence of honour
I won't be falling on my sword
Principles are fine you see
If it's what you can afford

I'll tell you my stories
Solemn tales and grave
It took me years to teach
My mind to misbehave

No Principles-The Storyteller

On empty streets
The movement is gone
Oil stained remnants from when we were alive
Back to the silence
The only constant
They won't miss us
Love won't kiss us

Back to the silence
Born from nothing
We're all lost but we keep on rolling

Gotta get away
The infection of these times
Caught out in the open together under sun
Back to the simple
The only constant
They won't miss us
Love won't kiss us

We sat and watched them cry
We sat and watched them cry
Back to the silence
Born from nothing
We're all lost but we keep on rolling

Missing

Video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xuRYVvQRQSc&list=PLV_oSLRa-HaKHuG3vbexCV1TGY2S3RlLd&index=12

Some live looping acoustic music for a lovely day! 🙂 I wrote this song after I was stuck for many hours in a heavy rain in South Europe while hitchhiking to Morocco and West Sahara. Song is in my mother tongue - Latvian. This isn't my most latest song but this is brand new arrangement. Hope you will enjoy!

Let it Happen / Lai Notiek (Live Looping Version)

Refracted Memories is a collaboration between Welsh producer Michael Wadlow,American Guitarist Jack Morefield 
And American Singer/songwriter/guitarist Jay Arana