*Lithograph by family friend and artist, Shmuel Shapiro, 1970.

My SoundCloud Favorites

Stuff I Like 6

Songs written and released between July and December 2022, taken from the E.P's and Albums, Haven't Seen The Sun, Buffalo, Cows, Mugshot and Salt.

2022: Long Haired Milk Sucker

SpukSchreibMaschine

Himno a Buenos Aires

Matt Hancock

Haven't Seen The Sun

Look at The Sun [Nancy Pie]

Days in the Sun

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cinx4L_D2uW/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

There's a fox on a hill.
Looking down at a hen house.
The hills roll away.
What more can you say? 
Can you say?

There's a spider that spends, its whole life on a window. 
He doesn't get down.
Nor ever look around. 
He just likes to stay.

There's a a boy.
Aged about ten.
Naming flags to his mother.
She just can't work up. 
The will to look up from her ironing pile. 

There's a box on a fridge.
Which no one will look in.
Ever again.
Contains anything, 
Which boxes contain.

There's a girl plucking eyebrows.
For forty five minutes.
She watches them fall.
For a moment they stall.
Then they're gone away.

There's a sign on the wall.
Which must signify something.
You don't don't take it in.
The words don't begin.
The words are opaque.

There are things in this world that are best off forgotten. 
There are things that you take to the grave.
 
There's a question which fills you with furious anger. 
Mis-understood all.
You made the wrong call.
What more can I say?

There's a sword in the sky hanging over our shoulders. 
We wait for the fall.
Whilst trying to walk tall.
What more can I say?

There's a love that's uncertain.
That is worth the time put in. 
It waits to begin.
A strike for the win. 
You'll get there one day.

There are things in this world that are best off forgotten. 
There are things that you take to the grave.

There's a fox on the hillside,
laying down in the sunshine.


Things

Like an old boot,
with the bottoms wearing through.
Or a moon shoe,
the world has no use left for you. 

There's some new rules,
by which you struggle to abide, 
There's a rip tide,
your just taken off for the ride. 

I was wondering, what your thinking about me.
cos one day soon them thoughts are all i'll be, and there's nothing left (here) but you. 
ahhh oooo
ahhh oooo. 

It's a suitcase but the wheels are wearing down,
It's an empty shop, serving nothing out but frowns.
There's a few changes, 
that the years are throwing round.
You've been making your bets,
but the teams are pulling out. 

Like some sealing wax, 
or a pair of driving gloves.
Like a letter box, 
or the flowering of love. 

There's a old man, 
and a toilet in the yard.
There's a lifetime,
does it have be so hard.




Old Boot

What I could have been, washed out by the salty sea, oh it is just a dream, a dream that's obsolete. 

What a place to be, a place where you can go and see, the things that you could be, all that you could dream. 

Now you'll never know, anywhere's the way to go, oh, It's all for the show, now you'll never know. 

Washed out by the sun, this sun is just the current one, the bun that traps the fly, now you wave goodbye. 

Just wasted on the sand, wasted in a foreign land, wasted like you planned, you wasted all your hands. 

Time it ticks away, ticks away another day, the days they will not stay, the days they go away. 

What I couldn't see, washed out by the salty sea, reminds me of the time, I searched but couldn't find. 

A scar that fades away, reminders of the former days, the days that fade away, the days they often change. 

The salty sea imbibes, more than you would care to mind, you're full up to your eyes, the salty sea revives. 

Salty Sea

What's the matter Steve?
What you saying to me?
Your face is turning sour.
You're judging me,
but you fail to see,
no need to be so dour.

Look round.
Oh, the humanity.
Turned down.
Even in infamy.
Last out.
Now they are gone from your home.

What's happening Steve.
You guys are looking strange.
Can't tell what they's about.
That's what you get.
When you isolate,
and control all the power.

Look round
Oh, the plasticity.
Turned down.
Lacks electricity.
Last out.
Turn off the light as you go.

What's happened Steve?
Oh, don't look surprised.
Your world has tumbled down.
Kept in a cage,
but reality,
has a way of spinning round.

Look round.
Earnings are temporary
Turned down.
Learn you some empathy.
Last out.
Turn out the light as you go.

Steves

Avoidance, takes its toll.
Never minding, any goals.
Always hiding, in your hole.
Never binding, to the whole. 

A table, spread to eat,
A window, to the sea,
A white wall, not complete.
Nor flower, nor a tree. 

A sunset, or a wave.
A shipwreck, for a grave.
A whale's song, in your head.
A lonely tourniquet. 

An old hat, on the peg.
A corner, for your bed.
A lamp light, shining free.
A collector of memories. 

The freedom, you can't see.
Imposing, you can't be.
Not needed, obsolete.
Automaton, left replete. 

A lighthouse, all alone.
The raging sea, down below.
Piercing, through your heart.
A lamp light, through the dark.

Lighthouses

There's a castle that stands,
on a hill, above the sands,
while the people below,
hatch some plans. 
Though the fields and the trees,
are packed with stupidity.
Might be you, could be me,
naturally.

These were the ways.
That they kept you in place.
These were the ways.
Back in the days.

As the castle looks down,
ashen faced, in the town, 
oh, the people they frown,
looking down.
And they never glance up,
at these rocks they've piled above, 
piled for years, piled with tears,
piled with love. 

These were the ways.
That they kept you in place.
These were the ways.
Back in the days.

The castle surrounds, 
a cliff top, above the town, 
seabirds cry,
as they circle around 
Control has no bounds,
like a face in the clouds,
looking down at the state of the town. 

And what will we be?
for one thing, we're not free.

There's a castle, 
which watches, 
you go.

Castles

Smoko - the Ozzy way to break aday 
Kick back for a few moments with McDead

Smoko

This is based off a dream I had when I was in the ICU about a girl that works where I work. I haven't met her, I'm a bit shy. The dream was that she was a spy and volunteered for a job that ended up at a mall she got beat up and me some other guys had to go in and save her. We did, we lost a guy after getting her out. Just another dream that sticks in my memory so here it is. Mastered by Felix Davis, Metropolis Studios.

She is the Best Spy

Wrong Way

We Stay Here, We Die

Music composed 21.12.2012
Images and art by Magitoria.

Magitoria - Elixir of Time

Guitar/piano melodies in ambient soundscape.
No drums

Magitoria - Lucid Flow Of Memories

Oh, it was alright at the start.
But then you drank too much, and things just start to slowly fall apart.
And it'll be alright in the end.
And all the other bullshit coming from your friends.

Don't talk that fucking shit to me.
You know exactly how this goes.
You can't do nothing and expect things just to change.
Been down the road.
Cigarettes and Alcohol.

You got yourself some little tart.
Kidding yourself that you're so much better than you are.
They all think you're a fucking dick.
Be better if it didn't take you years to realise it.

Don't talk that fucking shit to me.
You know exactly how this goes.
You best do something if you're wanting shit to change.
Been down the road.
Cigarettes and Alcohol.

So you pour yourself another drink,
And you're gipping in your kitchen sink.
There's empty cans hidden in every hole.

And you're kidding no one but yourself.
There's no escaping mental health.
Reflection staring back all pale and gaunt.

The fun has gone it passed you by.
Old Red eyes they don't even cry.
They only get more angry at the world.

The only solution's another drink.
Another drink and, another drink.
That familiar feeling, all safe and warm.

Don't talk that fucking shit to me.
You know exactly how this goes.
Give it three days and you'll be rid of the fucking shakes.
Been down the road.
Cigarettes and Alcohol.

Cigarettes and Alcohol [2023]

Mosaïque

Passion

Compusimos este tema con Osvaldo Tarantino alrededor de 1983. Después Lidia Rosalía de Jijena Sánchez le escribió la letra, y lo grabó el coro Buenos Aires ad Libitum en el CD "Nueva Propuesta", que editó la CBS Columbia en 1985.  Hace un par de años también lo cantó el coro de Vancouver-Canadá.

Álbum desconocido (07/05/2012 06:02:27 p.m.)

Piano: Saúl Cosentino, Saxo alto: Arturo Schneider, Bass: Adalberto Cevasco. Grabado alrededor de 2005.

A La Memoria De Astor

The Way

We are the music makers. We are the dreamers of dreams.



