Folk singers

My Favorites 4

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

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

An old salt, peers out from the bolts. 
Takes a look at the world on his plate.
He hands red raw, advice to his mate.
He knows that summer times drawing short. 

The cheese and the pickle, the bells, and the whistle away.
Working slowly - just waiting for much better days, in the haze. 

Stuck till Friday, an eye on the wall.
An important call, what's the date?
A punter comes in, a punch on the chin, 
or an old baccy tin, a long wait. 

The posters of girls on the wall have not aged like his face.
Turning slowly, just hoping for much better days. Through the haze. 

The cheese and the trickle of money that ties to the place.
Working slowly - just waiting for much better days. in a daze. 

An old smith, a rock megalith,
which was uncovered minutes too late. 
Having lain in the darkness for countless odd years without the forbearance to wait. 

The keeping of vigils and banging of anvils, 
the strength in the arms,
It fades slowly, just waiting for much better days.
Borne away. 

An old smith,  a weary eyed sit, and a look down at the ground. 
At the ground.

Smiths

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

All that’s left

It's a song about juvenile love. (Yes I know that sounds cheesy). Harmonies by Molly Warner.

Saturn IV

Highlights

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

Vid of me playing it: https://youtu.be/hZsDNwTvBA4

Just The Reckoning

Introduction in English:

In my late 30s, I still suffered from frequent anxiety and panic attacks. During this time, I had a recurring nightmare: I am lying in my bed at night. Some dark, strange figure comes into my room. It slowly comes closer to me. Before it reaches me, I wake up screaming and drenched in sweat.  
One day my female psychoanalyst encouraged me to relive this dream with her company. Like a fairy godmother, she now sat in my imagination at the edge of my bed and held my hand. Thus I succeeded in letting the dark figure come closer. And at some point the strange being stood in front of me and I could look him directly in the face. And suddenly it became clear to me that it is the death which stands beside me; which probably always stood beside me and also always will stand beside me: My eternal companion. 
Since these sessions, panic attacks and anxiety attacks occur very rarely. And when they do come, I now know that it is basically my residual fear of finitude, of having to die, and finally of death. And from this realization, I can feel all the more in all my depths the legendary sentence of Sigmund Freud: "If you want to live well, prepare yourself early for death". The song "Finitude" was written against the background of these experiences It is in French, because for me this language comes closest to such existential themes.

Lyrics in English (for those, who don`t speak French):

Finitude

I have no time 
Finitude
Stands in my door
And speaks to me:

Come on go 

Don't stand still
Let no more time pass

The clock is ticking away 
Your shadow wins
Decay haunts you
Pain and anguish

But you are not alone 
The duty to die
Is the bond 

That unites us 
Whether rich or poor 
Wise or foolish

Death doesn't care
He takes us to himself

Finitude
I am ready
Look at you
You move closer to me

Till you're all there with me 

Look around me 
Many backs already crooked
The rollator goes ahead
Straight to the cemetery gate

The lifting only lasts 
Until the next tower clock

Then it comes out

That we melt 
We blow in the wind
Nothing of us remains 
Death rubs its hands

But do not forget
The duty to die 
Is the bond

That unites us 
Whether rich or poor 
Wise or foolish

Death does not care
He takes us to himself

Finitude
I am ready
Look at you
You move closer to me

Till you're all with me 
Until you are
Until you are 
Untill you are
Completely with me

Texte en français:

Finitude

Je n'ai pas le temps 
La finitude
Est à ma porte
Et me parle:

Allez, vas-y 
Ne t'arrête pas
Ne laisse plus passer le temps

L'horloge s'écoule 
Ton ombre gagne
Le déclin te hante
Douleur et tourment

Mais tu n'es pas seul 
Le devoir de mourir
Est le lien 

Qui nous unit 
Riche ou pauvre 
Intelligents ou idiots

La mort c'est pareil
Elle nous fait venir

Finitude
Je suis prêt
Je te regarde
Tu te rapproches de moi

Jusqu'à ce que tu sois 
Tout à fait avec moi 

Je regarde autour de moi 
Beaucoup de dos déjà courbés
Le rollateur va devant
Directement à la porte du cimetière

Le lifting ne dure que 
Jusqu'à la prochaine horloge de la tour

Puis il se révèle

Que nous passons 
Emportés par le vent
Qu'il ne reste rien de nous 
Que la mort se frotte les mains

Mais n'oublie pas
Le devoir de mourir 
Est le lien

Qui nous unit 
Riche ou pauvre 
Intelligents ou idiots

La mort c'est pareil
Elle nous fait venir

Finitude
Je suis prêt
Je te regarde
Tu te rapproches de moi

Jusqu'à ce que tu sois 
Tout à fait avec moi
Jusqu'à ce que tu sois
Jusqu'à ce que tu sois 
Jusqu'à ce que tu sois
Tout à fait avec moi

Finitude

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]

Remaster 2023 of the 2022 EP "A Path Of Light"

The Boat Of The Sun

Beautiful ecstatic love song with Middle-Eastern instruments: Ney (flute), Arabic Strings, Qanun.

In The Garden

Lullaby for my Son

Lullaby For my Son

My debut album

A collection of instrumentals; my first attempts at writing and recording music

Harvest Day

ON INNOCENT WINGS (FINAL).wav

REBELS YELL

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



