MENKIND

Crabbin'

https://youtu.be/4a8wFJ6b4d8 

Translation above.

Chanson écrite dans le cadre des ateliers d'écriture de Claude Lemesle. Thème : écrit sur une feuille d'automne.

Ces cris

L’été s’essoufflait
À tomber dans les pommes
Devant ce vent d’automne
Qui glaçait
Oh ! ces cris, ces cris…

Le vent dénudait
Les branches d’un platane
Quand les feuilles se fanent
À regret
Et ces cris, ces cris…

Sur le sol tremblait
L’âme de l’une d’elle
Qui, pourtant encor’ belle
M’appelait
Encore ces cris…

Je m’agenouillai
La posai sur ma paume
Ainsi que sur un trône
Bien douillet
Toujours ces cris…

Ses nervur’s traçaient
Des lign’s de vie diaphanes
Qui, sans appel, condamnent
Un portrait
Mais ces cris, ces cris ?

Lucide, ell’ criait
C’était des cris d’automne
Craquants, qui se dérobent
À jamais
Plus de cris, de cris…

Mais elle laissait
Écrit en filigrane
Dans ma main qui se fane
Son portrait

Myckaël Marcovic, le 15 octobre 2021

Song written during Claude Lemesle's writing workshops. Theme: written on an autumn leaf.

These cries

The summer was running out of steam
To fall in the apples
In front of this autumn wind
Which froze
Oh! these cries, these cries...

The wind was stripping
The branches of a plane tree
When the leaves fade
With regret
And these cries, these cries...

On the ground trembled
The soul of one of her
Who, yet still beautiful
Called me
Still those cries...

I knelt down
Put her in my palm
As if on a throne
Nice and cozy
Still those cries...

Her veins traced
Diaphanous lines of life
Which, without appeal, condemn
The portrait
But these cries, these cries?

Lucid, she shouted
They were cries of autumn
Cracking, which are evading
For ever
No more cries, cries...

But she left
Written in watermark
In my fading hand
Her portrait

Myckaël Marcovic, October 15, 2021

Ces cris

Written and produced by João Gonçalves 

Arrangements by The Rooms 

Piano and Bass - João Gonçalves 
Vocals - Mafalda Matos 
Drums - Mario Venditti 
Violins - Iat U Hong 
Bass Clarinet and Trumpets - Ao Chon Fai 
Sax Alto - Helena Tang 
Trombone - William Chan

Cicada

Download

The Months They've Turned To Years

Buy on Bandcamp

PHM - 01. Touch The Ground

You'll never make a seamstress out of me.
Your clothes will have to suffer down the years.
I don't come free.
See, it's ragged on the borderline.
You never said what's yours is mine.
You will not make a seamstress out of me.

If I chose to go hunting, I'd succeed.
And bring home some wild animal, that's mostly made of meat.
Of course, there's always tooth and claw,
and I've never killed a thing before.
But if I chose to be hunting, I'd succeed.

If I were a spaceman, would you be waiting when I land?
And if I sailed off to some war, what's a ribbon for?

The fireside is warm and idly,
I watch you as you sit there and sing into fires deep.
A singer you will always be.
Your song to sing, a minor key.
A constant ever-changing melody. 

If I chose to go fishing, I'd succeed.
Although I know almost nothing about the dark ways of the sea.
I'm sure that I'd bring back a fish.
A fish for you to make your dish.
If I chose to go fishing, I'd succeed.

If I were a spaceman, would you be waiting when I land?
and I was due to hang, would you make a stand?

If I was a spaceman, there'd be a ticker tape parade,
but if it goes the other way, I hope you stay.



If I Were a Spaceman

A 6:30 Start

Song reminds me of some early 70's British bands mixed in with some of my own arty farty stylings..Hope you like it.

Miss Breedlove

Written and performed by Stefano Colleoni

Stream: https://songwhip.com/stefanocolleoni/suspended-city

Buy on Amazon: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B08FXWHGCX

MENKIND

SIFURECORDZ

Recent comments

T-Botch

Jayro

Related tracks