This is so good i think ima sell my best friend to Santa Claus

A real american classic. Great story and I love the way the melody doesnt quite do what you expect!

Ha! Funny, clever and well performed. Amazing!

As each November approaches I try to make my own little Remembrance-time tribute.  Seems more relevant as each year passes...

Following the huffing and puffing empire lunacy in the summer of 1914, the next four years would see 40 million casualties, half of them deaths and of those, half were civilian.  

40 million.

40 million tales of poignancy, pain, grief and human tragedy, through times that can often seem littered with coincidence, symmetries …. bookends and mirrors.

In the Military Cemetery of St Symphorien near Mons rests John Parr.  At only five foot three inches and several years under age he (amazingly) managed to enlist in 1912 - hoping to see the world, and get the advertised “two square meals” a day.  He was the first British Army casualty, killed in the battle of Mons aged just 17, his body left behind, fate unknown until much later in the conflict;  the army unable to answer his mother’s letters of enquiry about her “silent” son.

By pure coincidence, John lies just a few yards from the last British soldier to die in the great war.  George Ellison served for four long years including at the same first battle of Mons as John, and most of the famously grinding, attritional infantry battles of the conflict.  His working life bookended by military service, George had first enlisted in 1902, leaving the army in 1912, just as John joined, he became a coal miner, re-enlisting at the outbreak of war to dig mud not coal and fight from trenches he helped excavate.  George was killed just 90 minutes before the armistice took effect at 11:00 on the 11th day of the 11th month.  The futility of the conflict was cruelly illustrated by the fact that George’s war had started and ended at exactly the same place, Mons in Belgium.  They had literally gone nowhere.

As a postscript to progress since "the war to end all wars" the human race is currently reckoned to be engaged in 7 major wars, 15 significant ongoing conflicts and 21 “minor” conflicts (the latter defined as up to "only” 1000 deaths per year).  By way of another macabre bookend, the longest of these has been going on, unbelievably, since the year .... 1918.

As always, this simple ballad is offered as a live one mic one take effort - please excuse the fluffs and gaffes.
_______________________

Bookends and Mirrors

Sun turned cold ‘cross every sky in the summer of ‘14
The Good Lord shook his head, and he placed it in his hands
Braided declarations flying, whose like was never seen
Lunatics in feathers stockpiled lead, bagged their sand.
Slapstick Mephistopheles, unleashing of his flame
Spiral minds lobotomised in the waltz of the insane
Simple lives unknowing of the mud that would become
A mirror in the resting place of two Holy Mother’s sons.

Signed the line, five years young, fingers crossed behind his back
Chance to see the world, grab a future, two square meals.
At 17, John’s angels sung, first to fall in dawn’s attack
Abandoned and forgotten, deaf to all his ma’s appeals.
Never knew the miner, his bookend pal to be
Fighting down the line, many battles that he’d see
Full four years in trenches, George’s hell lived through them all
Cruelty was smiling wide at England’s last to fall.

In service time they travelled nowhere, nothing to achieve
Embracing 40 million weeping mothers left to grieve
The crime of puffing chest bravado beggared to believe
Hall of mirrors seeping others’ blood of the innocent naive.

Now John and George lie facing each to seek their mirrored peace
Raise my eyes and brim a tear for the lessons never learned
Pray God, don’t ever let them know man’s insanity but increased
The war to end all wars a mere sequel oft’ returned 
By comedies of leathered fools stuck on infinite repeat
Bemedalled and bejewelled, they prosecute their moral defeat
But here, on sallow turf twixt heroes, broken mirror in my broken hand
Met by my own broken eyes, I still fail to understand.
_________
Photo by Michael Yuan on Unsplash

Bookends and Mirrors

Halloween Tune

Janine: voice, words, vocal melody https://soundcloud.com/janinelevinson

Jonathan: initial music, instruments, mix

----------------------------------------------------------------------


on a frozen berm
in a carriage house
with a veil of gauze
on a frosted hearth
 
on a ledge of iron
in a blinding storm
on the peat and earth
of the winded moor
   
in the ink and lead
in the skin of men
in the final beats
of a trembling heart
 
it is quiet, shhh
oh but it is quiet 
 
it is quiet
oh it is quiet
 
on the rolling sea
in the folds of sails
in between the planks
on the salty rail
 
in the thorny vines
in the rumpled flowers
in a nest of crows
on a crumbling tower
 
in the swirl of smoke
from a dying fire
it is grey and green
and it is quiet
shhh

--------------------------------------------------------------------
image: Boudewijn Huysmans via Unslpash

It Is Quiet (with Janine Levinson)

This is a song inspired by a wonderful poem of the same title that I came across on the web recently.  It's written by a guy named Christopher without further information (not me though).   I eventually took the liberty & converted it into a song.  I gave it a bit of a country feel and hope you would enjoy listening.  

[CREDITS]
Music / Vocals / Arrangements / Programming – Michael C. Lynn
Lyrics – Christopher 
Fiddle - Andy Leftwich @Band_in_a_Box
Guitar Solo & Fill-ins – Brent Mason @Band_in_a_Box

[LYRICS]
She looks into air, herself falling rain
Dripping coldness past, memories old pain.
Drops fall, the puddling her damp water-life.
Spiraling a mirror, self-lonely strife.

Clouds a-whorl, dark sky sheltering fair heart.
But how can she joy, while taking no part?
Covering cold soul, corona of defense.
Defying the stab of her fate's intents.

This is madness, she thinks in plaintive cry.
I'm here, on the cusp, of lay down and die.
What my destiny, but an empty-off dream?
A plaything with which gods and angels scheme.

Am I doomed then to live, time never-free?
Subsumed wholly 'neath life's scattered debris?
Is justice outside this torrential doubt?
Perhaps more than sorrow,  painful fall-out?

Instrumental break

Personal paradise, which I can own,
Evoking happiness, hither unknown?
She raises from streets of lonely no more.
Light slicing through darkness, hopes washed ashore.

Her withered gait now straightening with pride.
She glides like an angel 'cross future's tide.
Caressing the ground, sing the beat of her heart.
Into the sun seeking love's brand new start.

Into Every Life

Recorded in Modesto, Ca.  Featuring Steve Roy, Bass. Drummondville, Canada.  Sergio Parraga, Congas, Bongos. Spain. Roland Synthesizer Bass. Fender Rhodes Electric Piano. Gibson L5 Electric Jazz Guitar Rhythm. Gibson SG Electric Guitar Rhythm. Alto Saxophone solo. Vibraphone solo. Gibson 335 Electric Guitar solo. Drums Trap Drum set. Percussion Ago go bells, Cowbell, 22" ride & Crash Cymbal.

Hermosa

Wuda Cuda Shoulda

Wuda Cuda Schoulda

Subterranean air flows and echoes can beautifully bend and distort sounds (and conversations). Riding the 'tube', 'underground', 'metro' or 'subway' systems is a fascination for some (myself included), for some a mystery and for some an onerous necessity.

Track: 3 track saxophone conversations / clarinet background

Image c/o Pinterest: graphic of London's Piccadilly Circus Undergound station tunnels (1989).

Underground Voices

The whiskers of the fresh water catfish 
Are more dangerous than maybe they might look 
If you’re fishing and you happen to catch that fish  
Please be careful when you’re taking out the hook 
 
My fiancee’s father took me with him fishing 
In his boat out on a giant fishing lake 
I was eager to score points and so was wishing 
A good impression of myself that I would make 

He caught a fish each time he cast his line out 
He caught 10 fish in just an hour span 
I didn’t get a single bite when I cast mine out 
And it looked as though I was the lesser man 

The whiskers of the fresh water catfish 
Are more dangerous than maybe they might look 
If you’re fishing and you happen to catch that fish  
Please be careful when you’re taking out the hook  

I accepted that this outing was a fail 
When my fishing line from slack grew very taught 
It felt like I had landed a small whale 
It pulled our boat ten yards, I shit you not! 

I fought this beast until my legs were jelly 
I pulled it in with all the strength I had 
But I’d hooked it in its giant catfish belly   
And apparently that really makes them mad! 

The whiskers of the fresh water catfish 
Are more dangerous than maybe they look 
If you’re fishing and you happen to catch that fish  
Please be careful when you’re taking out the hook

It squirmed and thrashed, its whiskers all aflutter 
I grabbed it which in hindsight was quite dumb 
Like a hypodermic needle into butter 
A whisker found its way into my thumb!

I’ll admit I cried a little and grew queasy 
My fiancee’s father was not sympathetic 
Pulling out a catfish barb’s not easy 
And Screaming like a school girl is pathetic 
 
The whiskers of the fresh water catfish 
Are more dangerous than maybe they look 
If you’re fishing and you happen to catch that fish  
Please be careful when you’re taking out the hook

TurtleFrogMan

Catfish Whiskers Are Dangerous

Please visit the following link and listen to the latest collaborated version.
https://soundcloud.com/david-marconi-917184705/a-shade-of-blue-revisited-collaboration?si=f76ff153884b45738e4f2c6cbd97742d&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Just me having a little fun playing the blues.
Guitar instrumental by David Marconi

Aroused from Slumber

A Shade of Blue - Legacy Demo Version

https://soundcloud.com/nowy-yorg-nowyyorg/tracks 
https://nowyyorg9.wixsite.com/seasional-optimist/local-hero 

nowyyorg 2023 

...although I don't really play covers, this one is so deep under my skin that I couldn't resist... I hope you like my arrangement... 

guitars - nowyyorg 
piano   - my friend Sophie

Local Hero (Wild Theme)  - Dire Straits (cover) by nowyyorg

Here’s a jazz swing track for 2024 !
It’s a rearranged version of an old composition. In this track I used piano, acoustic guitar, B3, Rhodes, brushed drums and upright bass.
Thank you for listening !

Composition: Julien Apelian
Recording studio: Audio Colors
December, 28th, 2023.

Maximum Swing

Original music by : FPMORONSTUDIO/Francois Pierre Morin  musicians composer INDIE.

FORGIVE ME

I write story songs.   Many of the stories are true.

Watch my videos!  YouTube:   https://youtube.com/@turtlefrogman?feature=shared

Topics:   Sexual fetishes, reincarnation, sleep apnea, women who don't shave, the story of January 6th 2021, COVID, drug use, pizza place robbery, weddings, divorces and funerals, cannibalism, the story of Joe Biden, transgenderism and pronouns, erectile dysfunction, the World Economic Forum, the story of the USS Indianapolis, time machines, accidents with laxatives, school yard fights, proctologists, teen moms, scientific studies, genital warts, generational divides, national divorce, peeping toms, abortion, petty theft, DIY screws and mental health, suicide etc.

Catfish Whiskers Are Dangerous

TurtleFrogMan

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