Great title, and sounds to match it perfectly.

Purple Pansy Flowers

Original track. Dean on all vocals and guitars 

Landed from outerspace, fish out of water
Centre of everyone's attention 
asleep in the corner
Searching for kinsmen who might 
be on the same path
Wrong destination feels like 
a b&w photograph

Suburban wasteland, no home for aliens
Suburban wasteland, no home for aliens... 
like me

Kissed by the golden sunshine 
in from the cold
Lucky to find ocean solace 
to paint canvas bold
Silence the extrovert who is buried within 
Smiling alone in the shadows 
a loss is a win

Suburban wasteland, no home for aliens
Suburban wasteland, no home for aliens... 

Where is my rocket to take me home
Exit closed, signs overgrown 
Darkness comes, I got nowhere to go 

Suburban wasteland, no home for aliens
Suburban wasteland, no home for aliens... 
like me, like me, like me

Suburban Wasteland

Kalter Mond


Christine Cathy Alto Sax
Guy Damez Clarinet
Franck Leconte Bass Guitar,  Drum Prog 
Rino Lauciello Keyboards, Guitars

We're looking for a voice

Muscle Car At The Wedding Chapel

Uke, Mandolin and a couple tracks of syths...mashing. The clicks are me clucking my tongue...

The title? I got no idea where that came from...

Image is obviously AI

Ist Kan Bulle

Weeping Rainbow

This is a re-worked version of a track from a few years back. There's a raw edge to it…so I re-named it to reflect the Springtime wildflowers blooming down here right now.

Wild Notes

Music and Lyrics by Bill Whelan
Vocals and Piano by Layna Claunch

In the deep night
From a dark space
I hear voices calling out in heartache
They are wounded
They are broken
But their spirit rises when awoken
Yes, they may be poor in birth, but
Yes, how great each one is worth
Heal their hearts
Feed their souls
Their lives can be golden if your love enfolds

In their dreamtimes
In their visions
How they always hunger after freedom
Every hard load
Every dark road
Leads them on to reach a new horizon
Yes, they may be poor in birth, but
Yes, how great each one is worth

Heal their hearts
Feed their souls
Their lives can be golden, if your love enfolds

Lord, where is our freedom?
When will our hope begin?
Lord, what of the promise you made?
When will it come?
We have waited for the time
For the truth to live, when justice will shine
Too long those hands of greed
Held on and made us bleed
When will your people breathe
Lord, will it come?

Lord, what of our children?
Will they always depend on you?
Lord, why are they scattered and torn?
And their young hearts in chains
How they hunger for liberty
Feel their hatred of poverty
Let their spirit rise, soaring free
Lord let it come
Our day will come

Heal their hearts
Feed their souls
Their lives can be golden if your love enfolds

Heal Their Hearts/Freedom

Your sangreal

With a snarl in the chorus section of the song reminiscent of the Brit band, Oasis, this track delivers emotional highs and lows, over six minutes, in a pseudo-progressive-rock manner and narrates the artist's regret over long lost love.

Muscle Car At The Wedding Chapel

timbertoe

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Jonathan Beckenstein

Jonathan Beckenstein

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