From the 2023 album Coffee Stained Attendance Sheet Scotch Taped To A Glass Door


I’m a discipline man, not a medicine man, and I don’t even care, someone warn her

‘Cause she’s a typical man, only lives off the land 

‘Cause she’s reason to think war’s beneath her


Samadhi Samadhi

Samadhi Samadhi

Seven 

Mitakuye Oyas’in

Mitakuye Oyas’in

Heaven


It’s a sensible plan, not some sugary jam

Philosophically speaking it’s genius

“Cause we’re a principled clan

Such a reputable brand

And there’s nothing we sell so you’ll love us


Perfect enough

Not to climb but just bounce


Risk it all

Make that call


I’m a discipline man, no metaphysical man, and she don’t even care someone warned me

She’s a typical man

Only lives off the land

‘Cause she’s reason to think wars beneath her


Easy enough 

Not to program but play


Age like you shine

Right in time

Binary Aspect Of Walking vs. Non Dualistic Nature Of Flying

Every year it seem like things are getting worse
Pretty soon we’ll all have to escape to the metaverse
With a pair of virtual reality goggles strapped on your head
You won’t even realize that all the plants and animals are actually dead

You can suit up in your avatar and always try to look your best
You can give yourself big muscles even if you have a puny chest
You can live like a cro magnon in a dark and dirty cave
You don’t have to wear deodorant
 you don’t need to shower or shave

Every year it seem like things are getting worse
Pretty soon we’ll all have to escape to the metaverse

We’ll all live below the surface and never see the light of day
And as long as we have our VR goggles everything’s going to be okay
Mark Zuckerberg’s working really hard to make sure that VR sells
Pretty soon we’ll be living like those mole people in the time machine by HG wells

Like those people in the matrix 
Floating in tanks with electrodes strapped to their heads
Going through life thinking it’s real but everything is virtual instead.

Every year it seem like things are getting worse
Pretty soon we’ll all have to escape to the metaverse
With a pair of virtual reality goggles strapped on your head
You won’t even realize that all the plants and animals are actually dead

Metaverse 3.0

steve

Ködös_Reggel

Ködös Reggel

136BPM GMinor 21 SAVAGE TYPE BEAT

According to Wikipedia, Old Scratch or Mr. Scratch is a nickname or pseudonym for the Devil. The name likely comes from Middle English scrat, the name of a demon or goblin, derived from Old Norse skratte.

DAWless and Cheap(ish) hardware only: Second hand Volcas - Sample Mk1, Kick, Bass, and Modular -, a Behringer JT4000M micro synth, Stylophone CPM DS2, Zoom fx pedal, mixed live into AUM on iPad.

Old Scratch

ONE (Adore: Part 2)

Shadow Fear * Instrumental

Galactica

Woodwind Evolutions, British Drama Toolkit, London Contemporary Orchestra Textures, Noire Pure Particles Engine

Suite

Just over 3yrs ago (shortly after Nov 11th 2017) I was on Farcebook one night, musing the various inane utterings of, well, mostly people I'd met whilst drunk, when I came upon a poem by Terry Earl. I got to the end and, and upon noticing the tears on my cheeks, I read it a second time. ...I could name any number of songs that 'pull on my heartstrings', but I had *never* had such a overwhelming reaction to a poem before.
Five (or was it twenty) minutes later I realised my head had noticed the poem was *perfectly* structured to work with music, and had dutifully made me pick up a guitar and do just that: Play the music that had just appeared in my head.
Every syllable in this song is exactly as I found it on Terry's page that night; the music is merely a reflection of what those words inspired in me. In my head there is an orchestra and a Welsh male voice choir. On this recording is me and a guitar. Terry, I hope the music means to you even half of what the words mean to me. Thank You.

Terry explained to me that although the nouns reflect a British WW1 soldier, the sentiment speaks to every mother and every child that has been required to 'make the ultimate sacrifice', in all places, and across all times. "Lest we forget."

A young man, not yet 21,
Army beret, Enfield gun.
Not known First Love, nor learned to dance,
Awaiting orders: Northern France.

A hundred miles, my Home, my Land.
A pencil in my shaking hand...

If I don't make it back to shore,
Smell mother's cooking once more.
Read aloud, with Pride, this note:
Top pocket of my army coat.

Came here a boy, died a man.
Not My war, not My plan!
Whistle blown 4th of July,
"King and Country", "do or die"

Life is ruin, blood is spilled.
War is kill or be killed...

So up the ladder, through the gate,
To kill a man I do not hate.
My best friend lies wet with death.
Mouth open - final breath.

War is won, at Any cost.
Victory Bugle.
Mother's loss.

Lest we forget

Lest We Forget

A collection of my attempts at being a musician over the years ...Guitar, Vocals, Wiriter, Arranger, Recording & Production Engineering, Sequencing, Keyboards, Drums, Remixing, etc ...If you're wise; you'll listen to the good stuff (in the "Spotlight" Set List) and move along :)

Lest We Forget

Tim Wilde (UK)

Related tracks