Ça sent le vécu poto ! Putain le texte est sensas . Musique et guitares bien rock. C'est ce qui s'appelle un retour tony truand 🎸⚡🧨🔥🔝 Je pressent une suite en colère mon Stéphane ☮

Quelle puissance et quelle qualité instrumentale !! Ca m'avait tellement manqué ! Tu reviens en fanfare avec un texte criant de vérité ! Bravo mon Tulipe !

Available on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/11re8N71VcS0L5JqqgWtPs?si=FqCkJXmZS-yCmILa9sNbjg

Saga

I got rid of the bridge before the guitar solo...

One minute you're here
And the next you're marching
I don't like your mimes
Will you hold me tight
And not go snogging
Don't be afraidTo try skyving

It's only tears on my cheek
It's only tears on myCheeks

Everyone is zombie like
Some sometimes
Your fucking words
Cut deeper that a tweeny
Oh I finally see the crime

It's only tears on my cheek
It's only tears on my
There's nothing left for us to go back
Ah ah ah ah ah
Tears on my cheeks
Ah ah ah ah ah
Tears on my, tears on my, tears on my cheek
It's only a fucking tear on cheek
Who's responsable for that fucking tear?
It's only tears on my
It's only tears on my
On my cheek
It's only tears on my
It's only tears on my
On my cheek
It's only tears on my
It's only tears on my
On my cheek
It's only tears on my
It's only tears on my
On my cheek

Ah Shit !

Tears on my Cheek

A Bridge Between Time

The beak-faced, egg-breasted Bird Mother is the oldest known supernatural deity and she was worshipped in the oak groves of these isles long before any other more humanoid entities.

I wrote this after learning that frequency spectographic research found the dawn chorus builds, with its sound, what looks like cathedrals of light. (More here: https://anniedieuleveut.com/2021/01/14/the-cathedrals-of-light-sung-by-the-dawn-chorus/) 

I am very grateful to APi-ZZ (Andreas Pirner) for composing such enchanting music. You can find him here: https://soundcloud.com/api_zz

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024 

Music by APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) 
© APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner), January 2024 

Cover Art: Detail from a stained glass window at Dornoch Cathedral in the Scottish Highlands, taken by John Haslam. 

Poem: 

All honour to the Crane bag of the Bird Mother, 
with its Ogham runes and snakes' eggs blue 
that birth the laws to protect the young, 
and those who will later come along 
to live under Her eye of the Moon. 
Our groves were grown for her Offertory 
and even now that they have become churches, 
her birds still intone sonic cathedrals of light 
to wind Saturn’s clock for each new day ... 
and will do for so long as the Earth is.

The murmuring Starlings keep vigil in the dark, 
sparkling in their bright constellations. 
A Long-Eared Owl hoots the Magnificat 
through the cloisters, to prepare the Mass 
for the sleep-dreaming congregations. 

An Eagle arrives at the lectern 
to conduct the Liturgy of Hours, 
its hawkwind-breath inspires and expires 
through the lead-slated roofs and copper spires, 
with prayers reaching up to Her flower-decked bower.
Then a Martin begins the morning Matins 
by swift-spiralling above to show 
we’re all part of the round robin rhyme 
of the tic-tocking Wheel of Time, 
here in our nests and bowers down below. 

At Lauds, a Lark ascends through tree-lined arches 
into the heavenly fan vaulting, 
a glorious Gloria trilling on its tongue, 
that the Sun will keep its promise 
that a new day will come, 
its joy unstinting and unhalting, 
As through the leaded panes of the old church Quire, 
skies are turning from blusher to butter, 
while songbirds in serried ranks, brightly arrayed, 
are chirping and whistling a dawn chorus of praise 
to Her Blessedness, the egg-breasted Bird Mother.

At Prime, a Peregrine Falcon flies to the tower, 
to squawk in the new Sun. 
Then a Torquoise Jay emerges at Terce 
to Gregorian chant the chapter and verse, 
now that the third hour after dawn has come. 

White Swans take flight from their lakes 
to lead the sublime symphony of Sext. 
They soar past choirs of stone-winged angels 
to ring the bells and the Summer Triangle, 
all down the nave and through the transepts. 

Next it’s the turn of a red-cloaked Cardinal.
He intones a psalm, accompanied by a bassoon. 
It is Nones, which marks the ninth hour since sunrise, 
and so we have now reached mid-afternoon. 

Long purple shadows are silently descending 
from the wings of a bald-headed Vulture 
flying in for Vespers at this juncture, 
So we know that the day She gave is now ending.

 Finally, at Compline, a black Crow arrives, 
the incense to light, and to recite the Agnus Dei.
He perches on the altar in full magisterium, 
to hoarsely croak out a sombre Requiem, 
“...aeternum dona eis, Domine.” 
to bring down the thick velvet curtain of night. 

And then a Robin sings the Last Rites. 

All this, in honour of the Crane bag of the Bird Mother, 
with its Ogham runes and snakes' eggs blue 
that birth the laws to protect the young, 
and those who will later come along 
to live under Her Eye of the Moon.

© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024

A Cathedral of Birds

D'abord on s'met d'accord 
Sur les taxes et sur le gaz 
Après on les baise à mort 
Électrocution du peuple 
Une facture toujours plus dure 
Pourvue que ça dure.
Inventons leur une excuse 
C'est pour leur bien si je ne m'abuse.


Nous mettrons les gueux à genoux 
Quand ils ne posséderons plus rien 
Ils seront libres, heureux 
Et à nos pieds.

Une fracture du cou
 pour les plus faibles 
Une facture en un coup 
pour ceux qui ont l'oseille.

Les gueux à genoux

Les Gueux À Genoux

A song that goes round and round in my head
Cover photo: Alain de Maximy©

Cette chanson dans ma tête

This is a star story, a Celtic myth, that used to be acted out at carnivals, fairs and pageants up and down the country on May Day or Beltane. Nowadays, all that remains of it is the personage of the Queen of the May, and the maypole. So here we reconstitute this seasonal drama, which is about the Lord of Winter (Orion) having to give way to the Lord of Summer (Ophiuchus) so that summer can begin, at the setting of the Sisterhood of the Deer (the Seven Sisters of the Pleiades) when the Sun is in Taurus the Bull and the full Moon is in Scorpio.

I'm very grateful to APi_ZZ (@api_zz) for orchestrating so brilliantly all the twists and turns of this song, the second in a series of eight pieces to celebrate the eight Druidic festivals of the Windmill of the Year, more about which here: anniedieuleveut.com/2024/02/01/the-…ll-of-the-year/

By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner)

Words and vocals: Annie-Dieu-Le-Veut
Copyright © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, February 2024 

Music and cover art: APi_ZZ 
Copyright © APi_ZZ (Andreas Pirner) February 2024

Beltane (May Day)

Lyrics~ 




Your wealth is all they wish to chew 

You're making up the child abuse 


You're dressing up the severed wound 

You're fessing up the bed of truth 


Your kind is often sold a lie 

Dont mind appealing to the eye 


You're welding solved mysteries

You're held in solemn industries 


Who could induce such a spell

Who where and when go to hell 


A weary eye inflicts the pay 

At least you tried, so they say the same

pain
pain


A blind man leads you to a gate 

Unnasigned, he feeds you all the bait 


Informal fickle dumb indeed 

You're torn between the empty seed


In armstice 

But no one sees you


Stole a promise 

Forgot how leaving feels 


To live life 

And die dead 

To rid a wife 

Of what she did


All that will follow agitates you 

Dont try to swallow he who hates you


Keep the hollow rumour there

Weep for the sorrow groomsmen bare

Shadows at the silver gate

Hush my little darling - don’t you cry
watch the sky 
stars so bright 
the beauty of the night
Sandman made a dream for you
I wish it will come true
blessings, fortunes, hope and hugs
the best of dreams filled with love 

Hush my little darling dont you cry
dream sweet dreams  
Wave the day goodbye
Morning  breaks
Darkness fades away 
You’ll play
sun or rain
come what may. 

Evening stars spread the light 
a diamond in the night 
A nightbirds sings her lovely tune
it’s time to wake the sleepy moon

Hush my little darling dont you cry
dream sweet dreams  
Wave the day goodbye 
Morning  breaks
Darkness fades away 
You’ll play
sun or rain
come what may. 

Hush my little darling dont you cry
dream sweet dreams  
wave the day goodbye

Hush

In the grand expanse of the cosmos, envision a tempestuous surge of cosmic vitality cascading upon an outpost nestled within the cosmic embrace of Alpha Centauri. Fashioned from adaptive materials, products of the ingenuity of distant epochs, the outpost steadfastly withstands the tumultuous onslaught, manifesting a symphony of resplendent hues and luminosity.Amidst the void's chilling embrace, intrepid astronauts, representing a mosaic of diverse racial lineages and gender identities, anchor themselves firmly with magnetic footwear, grappling with undulating tendrils of energy, laboring tirelessly to restore equilibrium to the besieged outpost. In the distant reaches, enigmatic astral entities, their corporeal forms woven from celestial dust and adorned with thermal ocular organs, observe with a beguiled curiosity, drawn by the spectacle unfolding before them.Behold, a quintessential odyssey of the cosmos unfolds—a saga fraught with peril and exhilaration—a testament to the indefatigable spirit of humanity, as it endeavors to traverse the uncharted frontiers of knowledge and fortitude.

Outpost Alpha Centauri

You on the phone hunched over in a sweater..it’s nice to see you on the pottery wheel again, I’ve missed the smell of wet clay, and David believes he has painted The Seine At Argenteuil from scratch- all while I was pondering the fact that sound has shape when suddenly I got pulled over by a firetruck

Save Your Lies For David

Tulipe est le surnom que ma mère m'avait donné quand j'étais enfant.
La musique de Tulipe est très variée, du rock au blues en passant par le  psychédélique et bien plus encore

Les Gueux À Genoux

Tulipe

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