No More Trouble

Catchy Chorus

AK47

A concert aria written in the operatic tradition, expanding on the lyrical theme of “No Man’s Heart Aches Forever.” This work stands apart from its earlier folk-ballad incarnation, reimagined here as an epic lament and vow of endurance. The piece explores anguish and determination through shifting tonal landscapes, lyrical manipulation, and thematic transition. Neither purely opera nor folk, it belongs to an experimental cycle that bridges chamber music, aria form, and modern expressive narrative.

A3-NA No Man’s Heart Aches Forever – Aria da Concerto

A baritone aria da concerto that transforms the Teddington folk ballad into a tragic operatic epic. Blending chamber orchestra, dark lyricism, and folk-rooted imagery, the piece unfolds from hushed recitativo into storm-driven cabaletta, before closing in a hushed moral coda. Pride, love, betrayal, and fate collide in a performance that bridges folk tradition with operatic power.

[LYRICS]

A holiday, the skies were pale;
I crossed the sea with heart grown frail.
To Teddington I came to rest,
With questions heavy in my chest.

A Duke walked slow through river mist,
His cloak was dark, his hands tight-fist.
His love—the Queen—had gone away,
Yet left her ink to stain the day.

O hearts may flee, and spades may judge,
Yet pride must pay its toll;
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul.

The Queen of Hearts had turned to flame,
She wrote of love and fled from blame.
With one who vowed they both be free,
A stranger lost to land and sea.

The King of Spades, with cold command,
Passed letters by a trembling hand;
Each seal a blow the Duke endured,
Each word a wound no balm had cured.

“No blade,” he said, “cut quite as deep
As love betrayed and left to weep.”
“I wore my pride like battle steel
And now I know how loss can feel.”

O hearts may flee, and spades may judge,
Yet pride must pay its toll;
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul.

The Queen has sailed, the King stands still,
The Duke must bear the empty will;
And I, who crossed to heal my mind,
Stood mute before the weeping wind.
Let hearts take flight and spades pronounce
Pride’s debt will still be paid!
The cards were laid in Teddington
And fate’s decree was made!

Let hearts take flight and spades pronounce
The tally takes its toll!
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul!

O hearts may flee, and spades may judge…
Yet pride must pay its toll;
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul.

So mark this tale and learn it true:
The kind may bleed, the proud may rue.
Though kings may reign and queens may run,
Some fall the hardest when undone.

O hearts may flee, and spades may judge…
Yet pride must pay its toll;
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul.

A1-S4 The Cards Were Laid in Teddington — Aria da Concerto (Baritone • Operatic • Tragic • Folk)

Bring On The Rain

Eternal Truth – Aria da Concerto is a storm-forged operatic lament for baritone soloist and male chorus. Blending classical form with epic, modern intensity, it unfolds as a journey from silence into struggle, from fracture into revelation.

The aria begins with a solemn recitativo secco, invoking stillness before flame, silence before speech. The arioso rises with reflection, bearing witness to light even as time and truth are fractured. The choral invocation swells with collective strength, guiding the soul through silence toward resilience.

A darker chorus of voices and shadows follows — whispers, foam, wind, and fleeting words that cannot bind what endures. The cabaletta bursts in thunder and steel, a defiant surge where each wound refines, each stumble teaches, and no storm can sunder the vowed path.

At the aria’s heart lies the climactic expansion, a maxim delivered with operatic force:
“No blade,” is said, “cuts quite as deep,
As failure nursed to make us weep.
Let’s wear our pride like battle steel;
And embrace the truth that loss reveals.”

From rubble and sorrow blooms renewal — silence becomes guide, and tears give life to the soul’s flower. The return and transformation recall the opening lines but with greater power, reshaped by struggle.

The coda closes in sweeping inevitability:
So it was, and so it is,
Time will break, and time will mend.
At stillness’ edge, a hope unending extends,
And sorrow’s chain at last will end.

Forged in silence and storm, Eternal Truth stands as both lament and triumph: a testament that truth endures, unbroken by the passing of time or the weight of sorrow.

[LYRICS]

Rise, O soul, into the stillness,
Before the word, before the flame;
Here the sands hold their witness
Here the stars keep no count or name.

Time was whole before the fight,
Light was vast before the night;
Rise, O witness, and lift your sight,
Bear the truth to wake the light.
From the rubble, forge a tower,
So tears may nurse the soul’s flower.

There is motion deep within stillness;
It carries us onward, steady and true;
And opens the soul to living wholeness;
A timeless voice, guiding all we do.
From the rubble, forge a tower,
So tears may nurse the soul’s flower.

Words may follow as we’re walking,
Whispers follow, softly talking;
They break like foam upon the shore;
They fade like wind, they are no more.
What is said before us or behind us
Cannot bind us, or confine us;
The stone may strike, its fragments fly;
Yet truth endures; it cannot die.

Come, let us tumble; let us fall;
We accept it, one and all!
For in the breaking, there’s the sign,
The strength to rise is yours and mine.
Each stumble teaches, each wound refines,
It makes us stand with straighter spine.
No thief of fate, no storm shall sunder
Our vowed path, nor steal our thunder.

“No blade,” is said, “cuts quite as deep,
As failure nursed to make us weep.
Let’s wear our pride like battle steel;
And embrace the truth that loss reveals.”
Now the silence is our true guide,
And sorrow’s seed will turn the tide;
From the rubble, forge a tower,
So tears may nurse the soul’s flower.

Time was whole before the fight,
Light was vast before the night,
Now in the silence we will find our might,
From the rubble, forge a tower,
So tears may nurse the soul’s flower.

So it was, and so it is,
Time will break, and time will mend.
At stillness’ edge, a hope unending extends,
And sorrow’s chain at last will end.

A1-S1 Eternal Truth – Aria da Concerto (Operatic Lament • Baritone • Forged in Silence and Storm)

Scene 3 from the cycle Chains of Sorrow.
The Footbridge is written in a Neo-Classical / Modern Classical style — a hybrid of traditional aria form with contemporary textures. Rather than staged opera, it functions as a concert aria, blending baritone solo and male chorus with chamber ensemble (strings, harp, winds, and subtle percussion).

The piece explores a moment of suspended recognition: the awareness that choices must be made, though clarity never arrives. The baritone voice carries self-questioning phrases, answered and expanded by the chorus, while the orchestration shifts between hushed reflection and urgent surges.

Not tragic but reflective, the music dwells in ambiguity, carrying the listener into the tension between doubt and resilience.

[LYRICS]

Dark were the days of deep despair,
White were the nights of solace rare;
I stood where shadows veil the air,
And sorrow’s weight consumed me there.

I stand between two roads of old,
Each with promise, bright and bold;
The bridge beneath bears not a name,
Yet none who cross return the same.

No guide remains, no hand to lead,
The heart must guard its quiet need;
For choices cut and choices bind,
But silence cuts the deepest kind.

The vessel empties, poured out free;
The stream runs dry, cut from its source.
To walk this path, I must be still;
To bear the weight, I keep my course.

What heart can give when thirsts in vain?
What hand can heal when bound by pain?
I drink from silence, breathe like tide,
That I may stand where paths divide.

The vessel empties, poured out free;
The stream runs dry, cut from its source.
To walk this path, I must be steady;
To bear the weight, I keep my course.

The vessel must fill ere it pour,
The root must drink to bloom once more.

The vessel must fill ere it pour,
The root must drink to bloom once more.

The fog awaits with quiet hand,
To test the path, to mark the stand.

I crossed the bridge, then turned around,
Unsure which side was truly mine;
The fog then curled and closed around,
And blurred each boundary line.

I crossed the bridge, then turned again,
Unsure which side was ever mine;
The fog then veiled the path I trod,
And blurred all boundary lines.

The rail was cold beneath my hand,
As the river rolled dark below;
Its voice was low, a mournful strand,
And echoed what I’ve come to know.

The rail was cold beneath my hand,
As the river rolled dark below;
Its voice was low, yet deeper still,
And echoed what I’ve come to know.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the very start;
But fog is kind to those who wait
And listen with a faithful heart.

A bell rang, time drawn in to full,
A boat slipped slowly out of view;
I felt the moment strain and pull,
Yet still I never truly knew.

Two sides, two lives, both calling out,
Yet neither one could give me peace.
The bridge became a place of doubt,
Where second thoughts find no release.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the very start;
But fog is kind to those who wait
And listen with a faithful heart.

Some choices bloom like morning light,
While others drift like distant mist.
The wiser path is rarely bright,
Yet still a truer way will persist.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the start.

But still I crossed that bridge again,
And followed what I knew was right;
And doubt itself can lead us home—
Yes, at the last, it leads us home.

The self must feed, the self must grow,
Or none may walk where choices go.
For silence guides and silence shows,
The strength that every spirit owes.

The self must feed, the self must grow,
Or none may walk where choices go.


A1-S3 The Footbridge – Aria da Concerto (Baritone • Reflective • Neo-Classical)

A reflective neo-classical aria for baritone voice, blending poetic stillness with tender emotional weight. The Gravel Path – Aria da Concerto walks through imagery of morning mist, echoing memories, and fragile resilience. The piece unfolds in a traditional operatic arc—recitativo to aria proper—with motifs of longing, regret, and quiet hope carried on gravel stone and autumn air. For listeners who seek modern opera with timeless resonance, it is both intimate and expansive: a journey of the heart along a simple path that carries profound truths.

[LYRICS]

Upon the path of gravel stone,
I walk in thought, yet walk alone.
The morning mist drifts pale and kind,
But veils the one I seek to find.

The trees lean soft with laden grace,
Their shade recalls an absent face;
Each leaf that stirs, each branch that bends,
Reminds me love may heal, or end and rend.

The air is cool, yet sweet it seems,
It stirs up echoes in my dreams.
I hear the voice in rustling leaves,
I feel the hand in autumn’s breeze.

Though distance holds what I adore,
The heart still walks, and hopes once more.
Each step is tender, cautious, and true,
Yet still it longs, as every heart will do.

The gravel path to morning
Knows nothing of regret;
Each step I take grows lighter,
Though love is distant yet.

Though distance holds what I adore,
The heart still walks, and hopes once more.

The gravel path to morning
Knows nothing of regret;
Each step I take grows lighter,
Though love is distant yet.

The gravel path to morning
Is steady, kind, and plain;
But in its dust there lies the tread
Of joy that walks with pain.

“No flame,” I say, “burns half so dire,
As love misplaced, or blind desire.
To give the heart where none will stay
Is to burn its very ash away.”

Not every ember must flare,
Some warm us as they slow;
We bank the heart, not cast it,
And guard its gentle glow.

Not every ember must flare…
Some warm us as they slow…

The gravel path to morning
Knows nothing of regret;
Each step I take grows lighter,
Though love is distant yet.

“No flame,” I say, “burns half so dire,
As love misplaced, or blind desire.
To give the heart where none will stay
Is to burn its very ash away.”

The path goes on, the soul must tread,
Yet fragile hearts may break instead.
So walk with care, let silence show,
What tender souls at last may know.

A1-S2 The Gravel Path – Aria da Concerto (Baritone • Reflective • Neo-Classical)

The Departure marks the opening of Act II — Struggle and Defiance in Chains of Sorrow (Neo-Opera). Written as an Aria da Concerto, it begins in solemn reflection, acknowledging the anchors of Act I — silence, betrayal, and fractured ideals. From that hush, the music builds into lyrical determination: fragile hope turning into courage, the heart unchained from its past.

At its height, the communal “winds” motif emerges — voices rising together in affirmation, echoing strength found in shared struggle. The aria culminates with the soaring refrain “So set your sail…” — a declaration of renewal, forward motion, and defiance of fate.

This is both a personal release and a collective call: a bridge from sorrow into resilience, from silence into song.


[LYRICS]

The morning stirs; the robins wake,
A silver quiet veils the break.
They call me back to broken ground,
Yet quiet says go; look not around.

No rusted name, no whispered blame,
Can cage a heart in yesterday’s frame.
I loose the knot that held the scar,
I take the meadow, wander far.

Lay burdens down; the pasture clear,
In every field day’s gifts appear.
Fold up the day like linen fine,
Breathe in the hush and walk the line.

Let grasses lean, then rise once more,
Let swans drift slow beyond the shore.
Learn what a faithful heart should keep:
It does not clutch; it will not weep.

We are the winds that lift the day,
We comb the dark and clear the way;
Fold up the day like linen fine,
Let quiet make the courage shine.

We are the winds that mend the seam,
We free the root to drink and dream;
No spite that stabs shall still prevail,
We turn from weight toward open trail.

We are the winds that lift the day,
We clear the thorns that block the way;
Let steady breath keep song and spine,
Let faithful steps make straight the line.

We are the winds that teach release,
We fold the day and lean to peace;
No branded wrong, no borrowed song,
Can bind the breath or choke it long.

We are the winds that wake the plain,
We shake the dust from loss and pain;
So step to ground that feels alive,
Let quiet truths return and thrive.

The world may tell me who I was,
May press me back without a cause;
Yet morning bells through branches ring,
And teach the heart to breathe and sing.

No flame shall claim the heart I bear,
No chain shall stay the steps I dare;
I name the wound and raise my will,
I break the hush and choose it still.

Not fear, not shame, nor spoken ill,
Shall bend the path my feet fulfill;
I lift the will, I keep the aim,
I walk the light and drop the blame.

We name the wound, we raise the will,
We break the hush, we choose it still;
Let steadfast breath through silence climb,
Let ringing hearts keep holy time.

We are the winds that bear the soul,
We set our path toward truer whole;
Lift up your eyes and take the lea,
Where land and light outpace the sea.

We are the winds that lift the day,
Fold up the day, then find the way;
Quiet within, and courage near,
The road grows clear, the road grows clear.

No flame shall claim the heart I bear,
No chain shall stay the steps I dare;
We name the wound and raise the will,
We break the hush and choose it still.

So set your sail, then walk the field;
Let folded peace become your shield.
Though storms may press, they will not stay,
For winds endure and clear the way.

Fold up the day and let dawn renew,
Then take the path your courage drew.
Set now your course to sky and sea,
The heart keeps faith with land and lea.

We are the winds that lift the day,
We carry hearts toward brighter clay;
So set your sail where mornings be,
Then walk the field in harmony.

A2 - S1 The Departure (Aria da Concerto) (Neo-Opera • Orchestral • Baritone & Chorus)

I’ve always lived at the crossroads of music and poetry — where feeling becomes form, and melody turns memory into meaning. Whether it’s a lingering jazz note, a well-placed rhyme, or a shift in tempo that tells a deeper story, I’m drawn to that quiet magic where art reflects life with a little more style.

My roots are in classic music — the kind that doesn’t chase the moment but lingers with you long after the last note. Over time, that love expanded into poetry writing and jazz — especially the kind that swings, speaks, and smirks all at once. Jazz, to me, isn’t just a genre; it’s a personality. A conversation. A little tilt of the head and a grin that knows more than it says.

When I set out to create an album, it’s rarely just a collection of songs. I approach it like a personal playlist — one that drifts and flows as if the entire tracklist were one long, uninterrupted piece. Each track leans into the next, shifting mood, pace, or voice, but always carrying the same thread of feeling. I want you to listen the way I do — not as a shuffle of moments, but as a cinematic arc. One breath that lasts an hour.

Lyrically, my work is rooted in lived experience. Sometimes it’s obvious. Other times it’s just the skeleton of a memory, dressed up in wit, irony, or longing. I draw from real-life events, then let the poet in me twist, stretch, or sweeten them to taste. Depending on the tone of the album — playful, romantic, nostalgic, or something in between — I try to keep the emotional truth intact while giving it a fresh coat of creativity. A little humor where it fits. A deeper dive where it hurts.

My newest jazz album continues this tradition — short-lined swing tracks, conversational duets, and tongue-in-cheek storytelling. It’s an homage to late-night alleyway ballads, rooftop serenades, and train station goodbyes — all bound together with a sense of charm and cohesion. Each song is its own little scene, but together they tell a story — one you can revisit with each replay.

Thanks for stopping by my profile. I hope you find something that earns a spot on your repeat-play list — a melody, a lyric, or a moment that feels like it was written just for you.

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