Great connection to American rock at its best.  Really special

nice track Michael. Like the vocals and guitar

Love the vocals and lyrics, great guitar going on

Excellent love everything about this track

Great singing voice and composition. Red hot chilli peppers vibes. Thank you for a good listen.

Time flies and its important to seize the day. My second son has a tattoo .It says  CARPE DIEM!

Tempus Fugit.WAV remix 2023

Where I'm Comin' From

Youtube Video:  https://youtu.be/b70uQ3Xycyc

WE WANT TO FLY 
(c) JunkHeap Jul 21 2022 / remixed Oct 2023

Thinking about the day 
and feedin' on the summer vibe, 
do you feel it?

Later that night I need some sleepin',
crawl into bed, soft sheets are cheering.
The pillow says hello,
and I fade below.

Someone waves to come along,
through a field, beside a pond.  
It's idyllic. 
Jump up high, and say goodbye
flying up and out of sight.

Hit the clouds.
In the clouds.
and there's the sun.
and the beautiful Earth.
For all it's worth,
in this day and age.
Turn the page
and you see the rage.

it's all sort of malign.
Politicians turn a blind eye.
They don't have the fortitude
to satisfy all our needs.

We want to fly.

Sitting on a beach near Naples;
Standing in Krasna Square;
Meet some people at the Pyramids of Giza;
then hit downtown NYC and see its flair.

Dreaming of a simple bliss, 
where I feel her lovely kiss.
But a dark flows in so slowly,
blots out the light, 
and I feel people want to get away.

We want to fly.

We Want To Fly

This https://soundcloud.com/user-596493783 composition was destined for life as an instrumental track and found itself conjoined to my vocal.

FMT explain the process in their blog:
https://furicomusicteam.blogspot.com/p/blanket-of-moss.html

Blanket of Moss

Music & Lyrics: Jan Schonander
Guitar: Davy Vance https://soundcloud.com/skub1955 

TURN TO BURN

It’s getting better 
Getting better all the time
I’ll bide my time
I’m stepping back, it’s not a crime

It’s getting better
Getting better all the time
It’s way too heavy
And when I get my way, their gonna have to pay

When we get there 
I’ll trip and hop
I’ll step and dance
Do the jig
I’ll be singing la la la la la
La la la la la
And when we get there
I’ll trip and hop
I’ll step and dance
I’ll be singing

It’s my turn
My turn to burn
My turn in the spotlight
My turn to shine bright
Time to get what I want
Time to get what I need
It’s my turn
Time to leave things behind
My turn to burn
My turn to burn

When I get there
I’ll scream and shout
I’ll be bursting
Lose myself
I’ll be singing la la la la la
La la la la la
And when we get there
All of us
Both you and me
We’ll all be singing

It’s my turn
My turn to burn
My turn in the spotlight
My turn to shine bright
Time to get what I want
Time to get what I need
It’s my turn
My turn to burn
My turn to burn
My turn to burn
It’s my turn

Turn To Burn

Turn To Burn | Davy Vance 🎸

Georg Trakl (1887-1914) was an Austrian Expressionist poet with strong Symbolist influences. 
The following poem "Der Spaziergang" ( "The Walk") was written in 1913.

A big Thank You to The Neighbor for playing this wonderful solo-guitar.

The picture shows a detail of „Astronaut“, ink on paper, 2020 by Gregor Kalus



See translation (mainly by machine) below


Der Spaziergang

1
Musik summt im Gehölz am Nachmittag. 
Im Korn sich ernste Vogelscheuchen drehn. 
Holunderbüsche sacht am Weg verwehn; 
Ein Haus zerflimmert wunderlich und vag.

In Goldnem schwebt ein Duft von Thymian,
 Auf einem Stein steht eine heitere Zahl. 
Auf einer Wiese spielen Kinder Ball, 
Dann hebt ein Baum vor dir zu kreisen an.

Du träumst: Die Schwester kämmt ihr blondes Haar, 
Auch schreibt ein ferner Freund dir einen Brief.
 Ein Schober fliegt durchs Grau vergilbt und schief 
Und manchmal schwebst du leicht und wunderbar.

2
Die Zeit verrinnt. O süßer Helios! 
O Bild im Krötentümpel süß und klar;
 Im Sand versinkt ein Eden wunderbar.
 Goldammern wiegt ein Busch in seinem Schoß.

Ein Bruder stirbt dir in verwunschnem Land 
Und stählern schaun dich seine Augen an.
 In Goldnem dort ein Duft von Thymian. 
Ein Knabe legt am Weiler einen Brand.

Die Liebenden in Faltern neu erglühn 
Und schaukeln heiter hin um Stein und Zahl. 
Aufflattern Krähen um ein ekles Mahl
 Und deine Stirne tost durchs sanfte Grün.

Im Dornenstrauch verendet weich ein Wild. 
Nachgleitet dir ein heller Kindertag, 
Der graue Wind, der flatterhaft und vag 
Verfallne Düfte durch die Dämmerung spült.

3
Ein altes Wiegenlied macht dich sehr bang. 
Am Wegrand fromm ein Weib ihr Kindlein stillt. 
Traumwandelnd hörst Du wie ihr Bronnen quillt. 
Aus Apfelzweigen fällt ein Weiheklang.

Und Brot und Wein sind süß von harten Mühn. 
Nach Früchten tastet silbern deine Hand. 
Die tote Rahel geht durchs Ackerland. 
Mit friedlicher Geberde winkt das Grün.

Gesegnet auch blüht armer Mägde Schoß, 
Die träumend dort am alten Brunnen stehn. 
Einsame froh auf stillen Pfaden gehn
 Mit Gottes Kreaturen sündelos.

_________________________________________




The Walk

1
Music hums in the grove in the afternoon. 
Serious scarecrows turn in the corn. 
Elder bushes gently drift along the path; 
A house flickers whimsically and vaguely.

In gold floats a scent of thyme, 
On a stone stands a cheerful number.
 In a meadow children play ball, 
Then a tree in front of you begins to circle.

You are dreaming: Your sister combs her blonde hair, 
Also a distant friend writes you a letter. 
A rick flies through the grey yellowed and crooked 
And sometimes you float gently and wonderfully.

2
Time slips away. O sweet Helios! 
O image in the toad-pool sweet and clear; 
In the sand an Eden sinks wonderful.
 A bush cradles yellowhammers in its lap.

A brother dies to thee in a haunted land 
And steely his eyes gaze at you. 
In gold there a fragrance of thyme.
 A boy sets fire to the hamlet.

The lovers glow anew in butterflies 
And sway cheerfully around stone and number. 
Crows flutter up around a disgusting meal 
And your forehead thunders through the mellow green.

In the thorny bush a deer dies a soft death. 
After you glides a bright child's day, 
The grey wind that flutters and vaguely washes 
Decaying scents through the twilight.

3
An old lullaby makes you very anxious. 
By the wayside a woman piously nurses her child. 
Dreamwalking you hear how her fountains gush. 
From apple branches falls a sober consecration sound.

And bread and wine are sweet from hard toil. 
Your silver hand gropes for fruit.
 The dead Rachel walks through the farmland. 
The green beckons with a peaceful gesture.

Blessed also blossoms the bosom of poor maidens, 
Who stand there dreaming by the old well. 
Lonely ones gladly walk the silent paths
Amongst God's creatures without sin.

Der Spaziergang (Trakl, 1913) ft The Neighbor

Thank you for listening over the last 10 years, for commenting, liking and reposting. Special thanks to those I’ve collaborated with, and those who’ve covered my songs. I’m so grateful to you all, and best wishes for 2023.

Talk To Me (Brian Peters)

Talk to me about trouble
Talk to me about strife
Talk to me about men living 
a double life
Talk to me about hunger
Talk to me about pain
Talk to me about men dying 
and their deaths being in vain
Draw near
Put your lips to my ear 
and talk to me

Talk to me about heartache
Talk to me about loss
Talk to me about men carrying 
too heavy a cross
Talk to me about mercy
Talk to me about truth
Talk to me about forgiveness 
in the kissing booth
Fold me
In your gentle sea 
and talk to me

Talk to me in the whirlwind
Talk to me in the heat
Talk to me in the thunder 
of the city’s feet
Talk to me in the stillness
far away from the noise
Talk to me sweetly 
in that still, small voice
Steal away 
from the cares of the day 
and talk to me
--------------------
[Some unused verses]

Talk to me of the garden
Talk to me of the fall
Talk to me of that valley 
and the prophets of Baal
Talk to me about religion 
and the loss of God
Talk to me about the kingdom 
and that level sword
Stay on 
for the night is long 
and talk to me

Talk to me about beauty
Talk to me about life
Talk to me about the colours
in the rainbow of light
Talk to me about magic 
in a lover’s eyes
Talk to me about music 
in the heart of the night
Lay down 
on this covered ground 
and talk to me

Talk to me in the riddle 
of the spoken word
Talk to me in the alphabet 
from another world
Talk to me about longing 
for the one that we seek
Talk to me of that name 
that no man shall speak
Thrill me 
with mystery 
and talk to me

Talk To Me

℗ © Copyright Ian Stokes. All Rights Reserved
Recorded, mixed and mastered in Logic. 
Guitar played: Taylor 714CE in standard tuning 
Photography: Thanks go to Nigel and Libby Hume at Hume Photography.
LYRICS:
From the northlands up in the mountains
To the southlands across the seas
You might ask me what I know
About the places I have seen 

And I might say that I’m not sure 
There’s always something new out there to learn
Grey skies follow blue and blue skies follow grey
Who can say when the weather will turn

But it’s funny…………. how the wind knows
Funny…………… how the wind ……………just knows
It’s so funny…………. how the wind knows
So funny…………… how the wind ……………just knows

Could go west to the setting sun
Could go east to the break of day 
And you might ask me what I know
About the places I'll see along the way

And I might say that I’m not sure 
There’s always something new out there to learn
Grey skies follow blue and blue skies follow grey
Who can say when the weather will turn

But it’s funny…………. how the wind knows
Funny…………… how the wind ……………just knows
It’s so funny…………. how the wind knows
So funny…………… how the wind ……………just knows

How The Wind Knows

(Written by Terry Reeves)

Terry Reeves: Vocals
Gary Reeves: Drums
Hans-Michael Albers: All other instruments, arrangement & production

Illustration: 'Floating Man' by Enrique Mendez

I don’t believe in luck but I do feel very privileged to have two angels looking after me. My wife Jo and my daughter Charlotte have saved my life on three occasions keeping me alive until the ambulance arrived. I have been told that without their interventions I would not have survived.

Both have chosen not to believe in any God or indeed any outside power that can change our lives.  There may be many of you who disagree but these are the choices we make - each of us believes what we feel is best for us.  If a belief in a higher being helps give anyone’s life more meaning and guides them through each day, we have no argument with that at all.   

I think of Jo and Charlotte as my Atheist Angels.  The care they have given me during these close-to-death experiences shows what beautiful souls they are, always there for me at the time of greatest need.   

On every occasion, there were times when I truly thought that I was drawing my last breath, my existence disappearing as they fought to save me and all I could think of at the time was that, barring my brother Gal, all of my closest male antecedents died when they were just 63.  I was the same age during these episodes and I really didn’t want my name added to the sequence.  My Atheist Angels made sure that it wasn't.

Now I am 67, a proud grandfather, still around to enjoy the experience of watching my family thrive and grow.  There is another grandchild on the way later on this year and the more time I can spend with the love of my life Jo, the better and although my illness is not exactly how I planned things, I still try to enjoy every extra moment.

The continuation of ‘Cripple Club’ with Gal and Hans has been another unexpected bonus and we plan to keep going as long as we can. Here’s to the next song - I do hope you enjoy this one.   (Terry Reeves)

The whisper of a distance voice
Two angels arriving single choice
Keep breathing slow not too much
Your not leaving just stay in touch 

I’m floating yes I’m floating yes I’m floating floating away

A feeling of desperate final breath
Lonely moment no time to caress 
Fighting every 63rd dying thought
Surviving each gulp of air caught 

I’m floating yes I’m floating yes I’m floating floating away

Has time arrived to lay down still
Not accepted by two who really feel
More than one chance to live again
The Angels alongside helping pain

I’m floating yes I’m floating yes l’m floating floating away

Fight to avoid final thought of death
A fading light continues to suggest
Only time decides what, when and how
My Atheist Angels this time will not allow

I’m floating, yes I’m floating, yes I’m floating, I’m floating
I’m floating, yes I’m floating, yes I’m floating, I’m floating 
I’m floating, yes I’m floating, yes I’m floating,
Floating to stay……………………..cont

MY ATHEIST ANGELS - CRIPPLE CLUB

Old Forgotten Wishes (2023) ER TK-190

We did another piece , so maybe we will keep doing it 

Aporia is
Dani Kirby: piano
Bruce Musser: guitar
Dane Renshaw: drums
Mat Ward: electric bass

Aporia #2

Singer songwriter based in the Hudson Valley NY

Music on streaming: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/phenomenon/1717372189

https://open.spotify.com/artist/0IDMbTOQl9Qo0w3SPGk9Vv?si=pj8PpHqcTF-8jUOHCg_oJg

Follow me on Youtube:
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCG9N2kivAiT9AM9cLUrUFsA

Where I'm Comin' From

Michael DAgostino Phenomenon @phenomenon_rocknroll

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