You make a nuanced point about commenting on music. And you sound just like Willie Nelson which is a huge plus in my book. I wonder if I'm doing you a disservice by doing what you're criticizing in this song. :)

Haha all that to essentially say "stfu." Excellent.

You have a John Hartford vibe coming out of you. I sure do miss that guy..Id absolutely love it sometime if I got comments about how my song is shit and I need to re-write it.. or perhaps just shut the f up and play my guitar because Im half full of shit. Im guilty if cynicism. And so I can say I havent written lyrics like this for quite awhile now. Maybe i'm just too tolerant of other people's bull...

You’ve given me an idea.  Sit and stare into space for a while.  I just realised I never do that these days! We’re switched on 24/7 and it’s not good.  Great lyrics and performance Jim.

Ahh there is the stinger!  It may the curse of our generation (or blessing) depending on one's POV, but anyone with a smartphone also has a platform and a myriad of ways to make it public.  Excellent Jim, done with the artful skill of a seasoned song writer.

Fourth listen, Absolutely fantastic song Jim. ;)

excellent poignant song, well written played & sung. gorgeous.

We all got them, some just can’t be seen……………cheers for having a listen


A constant reminder
A memory from afar
Now etched in time
My permanent scars

There’s another side to me
That you don’t really know
But if you look real hard
There’s a story to be told

And if it’s not what you wanna see
You can look away
They’re always gonna be there
My scars are here to stay

They been years in the making
Star of their own show
I can’t ask them to leave
Like me they got nowhere to go

A constant reminder
A memory from afar
Now etched in time
My permanent scars

My Scars

This my first ever song with lyrics. 
The piano version of this song is at 
https://soundcloud.com/konrad-spittelberg/the-new-years-queue-piano-miniature
Check out my other music here: https:\\konrad-spittelberg.carrd.co

In the New Year's Queue

On a crisp and sunny morning, I step inside the market hall
Buying treats and sparkling wine, for our New Years party at night fall
My thoughts are drifting to the evening, dreaming of a joyful night
I dream of dance, of friends of fancy fashion– tonight is gonna feel allright

And then arrive at the counter - no, that's euphemistic to say
‘cause the end of the line is 20 meters away
Patience tested but my pulse still stays rested
I glance at my watch, just sufficient time still at hand
But if I get delayed, my day won't go as I planned
“Come on, why can’t you just move along?”

An elderly 
-- couple decides that they want to get 
--rid of all their coupons
They search their bags with amazing endurance - it’s a geriatric marathon
They turn each leaflet individually – is it still good?
I feel the pressure slowly rising under my hood
 
why do I have to waste my time in line - what's the deal?
how did I end up here - I must attest -- this gets a surreal feel
Every minute feels like hours, I’ve got to  go
Stuck in this snail trail that is creeping so slow

--- A man wants to pay 
his whole purchase with coins and he counts them with intricate care 
--- But then he mixes them up 
and so the count repeats again, 
--- as the line waits in ever increasing despair
his fingers start to tremble even more 
as he tries to build piles
 --- if it were for me
I would strongly support a law 
That would put this guy  into eternal exile

 Clench my fists till they’re white
Try to resist the anger that is building up inside of me
Hormones storming, my vision forming a tunnel
That is filled to the top with a bloody red sea
I must confess, it was no clever plan
To use my cart, As a battering ram
First it caused a shopping cart traffic jam
And then the first blow started to hit  into my belly

You will understand that I needed to defend my stand
Fists were flying there were children crying I did not care
Rage was holding me in its clutch
My composure breaking, this was getting too much
As I went down under kicks and blows


And the last thing that I’m able to recall
I was smashed against a wall
It nearly  broke  my skull
Conciousness waved politely bye bye 

I woke up the following day in a hospital
the bruises were not really critical
but my enthusiasm for this new year had faded to null

Around next Christmas, 
I'll mind my own business
And leave all the parties behind 
And will try  …
… to unwind

The New Year's Queue (Lyrics version)

in recognition of mental health awareness week..............the blues parade has often passed my way.........peace & cheers for having a listen........



hear that rumble over the hill
shaking the glass from the window sills 
hide the money and lock the tills
here comes the blue parade

in the distance hear that noise
no need to be alarmed there boys
just keep it straight and hold your course
it's just the blue parade

it'll start real early, break of dawn
won't get much sleep from the night before
better nail down the shutters and deck the halls
here comes the blue parade

well my mind mightn't know what's goin on
but my ears are tuned to the pipers song
hands get sweaty yea it won't take long
here comes the blue parade

you might meet someone, head hung low
not much to say nowhere to go
together you can try and mend your souls
among the blue parade

you might be strangers when you start 
when the dust settles you'll never part
cos you made a pact with the bleeding hearts
now you're part of the blue parade

well my mind mightn't know what's goin on
but my ears are tuned to the pipers song
heart starts thumping yea it won't take long
here comes the blue parade

step in time march 4 to the floor
people be staring, don't matter no more
cos you sold the sink and the kitchen door
to join the blue parade

hear them blow their whistles. colors bright
seems to me to be a hell of a night
but if you look inside you'll get a fright
yea that's the blue parade

aint the time to think if what you're doing's right
just stay in line and keep your mouth shut tight
you're about to take the ride of your life
here comes the blue parade

well my mind mightn't know what's goin on
but my ears are tuned to that pipers song
god help me where did i go wrong
to end up in the blue parade
here comes the blue parade

The Blue Parade

Somewhere cross the world
People free and brave
Anything they want they take
It's a land of plenty
Enough for everyone
Except for those with none

Don't worry darling 
Little one dry your tears
It's somewhere far from here

Got tiny little hearts
To hear the way they live
So little love left to give
And if they got no house
They live on the street
Or maybe in a car's backseat

But don't worry darling
Little one dry your tears
It's somewhere far from here

Late at night they sing their songs
With all the grace of Babylon

My beautiful child
May you never see
What's become of their dream
Soon the day will be dawning
We'll wake and rise my darling
While somewhere night has fallen 
Somewhere far from here

But don't worry darling
Little one dry your tears
It's somewhere far from here

Somewhere Far From Here

a live demo recorded on the old tape machine.........peace, cheers for having a listen and seasons greetings.............*Tombstone Jones by The Bluebirds From Montezuma..........one of my many favs that ive found on here........a great group i like to listen to in the morn with me cuppa


somebody told me it's mind over matter
but does it matter to you that mine is in tatters
cos I'm sick of what I'm seeing on my devices
it's breaking my brain

advice never asked for, watch them boiling wooden spoons 
hearing peoples cringy songs with them singing outta tune
and pretending that they listen
to get a good review

or watch them bury their heads in their hands as they weep
cos they lost everything they got nowhere to sleep
and from the comfort of our 24/7 live feed
we can give it our armchair critique

and as always there's talk, endless conclusions
everyone shouting so there aint no solutions
to the problems that lie at our feet
seems they only exist when they're on our screen

branded and tagged like cattle at the station
trying to be our authentic self on rotation
but we can't shut up about it
cos everybody's gotta know

so many conversations we're all trying to be heard
and not paying any mind to the things that deserve 
our attention deficit has never been so bad I've heard
since 1963

and as always there's talk, endless discussions
like a blow to the head can give you concussion
like the problems that lie in our homes
seems they only exist if someone else knows

we protest cos the cows are fartin to much
but if we eat any, the plant lovers hate our guts
cos they rather we live on daises and nuts
so we can squeeze through a crack in the wall

maybe what we need to do is find a quiet space
pull up a chair and stare into space
and for 5 minutes just be alone with our face
and shut the fuck up for a while

stfu (For a While)

And now for my next act
It's not the final one
That act is still to come
Now for my next act
Just when you thought it was done
It's only just begun
The best is yet to come

Now for my next act
Please, please don't leave yet
This is where it gets good
Now for my next act
A rabbit out of a hat
And on top of all that
The best is yet to come

I know the sun is soon to set
But I know I got so far to go before I rest

Now for my next act
Something you won't believe
Can you stay seated please
Now for my next act
I know it's getting late
But it's worth the wait
The best is yet to come

I know the sun is soon to set
But I know I got miles to go before I rest

Now for my next act
It's called the Tower of Doom'
Could you make some room
Now for my next act
Can I get a volunteer to stand up here

Now for my next act
It's not the final one
That act is still to come
Now for my next act
Just when you thought it was done 
It's only just begun

Now for my next act...

And Now For My Next Act

It's not often that an entire nation suddenly has its hands unshackled, its mouth ungagged and its cell door left ajar with an open invitation to leave the darkness and step into the light.

So, Syria, what's it to be?

Hmmm...?

_____________________________________________________________________________

Find Seagull's music here:  https://soundcloud.com/farout-music-studio

Find David's music here:  https://soundcloud.com/david-dunhamuser589535203

Artwork by Seagull
_____________________________________________________________________________

Mother Syria

Hold my hand up to the sun to reach this smouldered rubble
Lift my eyes again with little patience left in trust
Assad years, father and son, each the devil’s double
Gassed and burned my cradle nation to blood-soaked mental dust

With his face alight the new guy’s mission, pure, sent from heaven
Promises truth, gold, light and god in his virgin presidential pledge
In the dead of night autocracy voted AK47
New boots crush freedom’s fingertips, as they’re clinging to the ledge

Mother Syria at the crossroads, will your ancient beauty shine,
That cradled understanding of things earthly and divine?

Mother Syria at the crossroads, will your ancient beauty shine,
Or should we prepare the palliatives for your sectarian decline?

Mother Syria at the crossroads, will your ancient beauty shine,
On the path of sane humanity or on diabolos’ design?

Mother Syria will you renounce the suicide bomber’s blast?
Maybe seek out peace at last?

Mother Syria   ...   with Seagull and David Dunham

Funny old world.  Whilst scrumping about on SC my travels took me to Michele's cloud where I alighted on his track as named above. Sharp intake of breath and a hurried message to Michele to ask if he might be so kind as to permit me to pen a few words to accompany it.  He graciously agreed.  Having nothing in mind at the time I hastily back-pedalled and explained that it might be best if he didn't hold his breath....next day I listened again and Mr Spotty Book called over Mr Pen for a chat.  What followed in the next hour or so is somewhat blurred.  I always try to read a text in one take, for integrity's sake.  This was my fourth attempt and the only one I managed to complete.  

I decided to quit while I was ahead.

Thank you, Michele, for the warm nostalgic smile infused in this wonderful music of yours, and for the (unexpectedly moist) journey upon which it took me.

Find Michele's music here:  https://soundcloud.com/michele-ansani
________________________________________________________________________________

All the old little things we have lost

Of course, you know, Dad, that some stuff doesn’t work too well these days.
I’ll forget odd bits and bobs, like, maybe having lunch or doing promised jobs
Blimey, even birthdays on occasion slip the mind
As today’s neurons disconnect, recall’s evasion of my yesterdays so to find.
I actually forgot why I came into this room in the first place
Stood a while, cast about, then saw your face
Your smile leaping out from the old photo there
Engendered mine, returned, locked in loving stare
And propelled me back to play in those monochrome years
You know, our old box brownie’s still tucked away in the cupboard under the stairs.

Remember how it was, Dad,  how we lived, things we had?
Thrupenny bits and ha’pennies and bikes with hard rubber wheels
Plastic shoes and sock holes darned
Sparse but regular high carb, high fat meals
Never did us any harm
Hand-me-downs all around, we craved the latest style
Segs in shoes and outside loos
A homely fireplace, though just the one
We’d huddle round, our toasting forks with crumpets on, and laughing all the while

So I won’t forget all the old little things we have lost
Things so casually into history’s family album tossed
But neither have I lost my tendency to tears, welling soft
From the broken heart that burned for you, 
Then split apart and turned to frost
That day you died, just fifty two, so very young.
Who’d have thought that all those old little things
Would fill the font of memory springs 
From which this tearful smile of mine has sprung.

All the old little things we have lost: some words set to the music of Michele Ansani

J'ai longtemps considéré l'amour comme un sujet mièvre, bercé probablement par une culture Disney couplée à ma formation d'ingénieur assez matérialiste
Mais avec le temps je me suis complètement décomplexé sur le sujet et j'en suis venu à penser que c'est le sujet le plus important de l'univers.
On le chante depuis la nuit des temps sans comprendre son origine. On parle d'une forme d'attachement mais c'est bien plus profond. 
Je pense que le véritable amour réciproque créé une forme d'intrication quantique entre deux êtres que ni la distance, ni le temps, ni la mort ne peut défaire. Quelque chose qui dépasse nos dimensions et notre compréhension comme l'évoque l'excellent film 'interstellar'. Bref c'est du sérieux et ça méritait bien encore une chanson ;)
------
Un sentiment
Intangible et puissant
S'est affranchi du temps
Vire à l'omniprésent

Deux ne font qu'un
C'est étrange et divin
Même si je ne sais pas bien
Où je tombe, d'où tu viens

Si le coeur était la vie
Si l'amour au fond
Jouait d'autres dimensions
Au delà de l'esprit
Au delà des mots
Quelque chose de plus haut, de plus beau

On le ressent
Mais personne ne comprend
Universel pourtant
L'intrication en grand

La gravité
Entre nous s'est plié
Aucune loi jamais
Ne pourra nous séparer

Si le coeur était la vie
Si l'amour au fond
Jouait d'autres dimensions
Au delà de l'esprit
Au delà des mots
Quelque chose de plus haut, de plus beau
Quelque chose de plus haut
Quelque chose de plus beau 

-----
For a long time, I considered love to be a mawkish subject, probably lulled by a Disney culture coupled with my rather materialistic engineering training.
But over time, I've become completely relaxed about the subject and have come to believe that it's the most important subject in the universe.
We've been singing about it since the dawn of time without understanding its origins. We talk about a form of attachment, but it's much deeper than that. 
I think that the true reciprocal love creates a form of quantum entanglement between two beings that neither distance, time nor death can undo. Something beyond our dimensions and understanding, as evoked in the excellent film 'interstellar'. In short, it's serious stuff and deserved another song ;)
-----
A feeling
Intangible and powerful
has freed itself from time
Becomes omnipresent

Two become one
It's strange and divine
Even if I'm not sure
Where I fall, where you come from

If the heart were life
If love deep down
Played other dimensions
Beyond the mind
Beyond words
Something higher, more beautiful

We feel it
But no one understands
Universal yet
Big entanglement

Gravity
Between us is bent
No law ever
Can separate us

If the heart were life
If love deep down
Played other dimensions
Beyond the mind
Beyond words
Something higher, more beautiful
Something higher
Something more beautiful 

Quelque chose de plus beau

Here we have Jim Sanders and David Carter smashing it on drums and tamborine, Leon Carter with the juicy bass, Dave Toolan with the guitar chops, Jonny Rabbs with the peels of harmonica, and a slice of acoustic guitar and grated vocals from myself! 
~
Lyrics

Compost Heap

Take the watercress, that’s past it’s best, and the mouldy old sprouts,
The cabbage and the baggage of disappointments and doubts,
Every surreal ordeal, and the way it made you feel,
chuck it in the bucket with the old potato peel.

Soggy lettuce that upset us, and the unused courgettes,
Got forgotten and went rotten filling us with such regrets
The only way to move on, to forgive and to forget…
is to tear up some old newspapers… mix some dry in with the wet…

Chorus
And throw it on the compost heap

Take the melon seeds and fantasies, and avocado skins,
The fallen leaves and garden weeds, and seven deadly sins,
Put the rhubarb in the garbage, dump the pumpkin in the bin,
Ditch the spinach you didn’t finish, discard the chard you didn’t begin

Dispose of all those promises, sealed with a kiss
Dispense with senseless memories of momentary bliss
Declarations with carnations, guilty pleasures, must away
Recriminations, indignations, wilted flowers have had their day

Chorus
And throw it on the compost heap

Sling the beetroot and the jackfruit and the funky furry grapes
Boot the absolutes and old disputes, like scrapings off your plate.
Fling the incredibly inedible out of date dates
with the mis-haps, misadventures, misdemeanours, and mistakes.

Hurl the curly kale if it’s stale, no more ifs or buts
Get over all your losses, leftovers and off-cuts
top and tail the carrots, hellos and goodbyes
Toss the possibilities that were never realised

Chorus
And throw it on the compost heap

The tit for tat, bitter battles, and diplomatic talks
chitter chatter, it’s organic matter like broccoli stalks!
Like a rancid lime, the time has come for anger and for blame,
To be consigned like putrid pride and slimy lumps of shame

If a failure could derail ya then it’s time to get well shot
bad behaviour, manual labour, and all that bloody rot
Black bananas, psychodramas, and shrivelled up shallots
Gone bad, gone off, gone sad and soft,
Toss the bloody lot

Chorus
And throw it on the compost heap

(… and of course that’s not where the story ends… the compost goes on to feed the soil, feed the new growth the new life)…  hence:

~Mellow reprise~

When you’ve piled it on, all said and done
And the worms have had a munch
And deep within your heap
It’s a mushy fertile mulch

Rich and potent, broken down,
Fully decomposed…
Spread it out or dig it in
Where it’s needed most!

Compost Heap

Moonshiner [COVER]

Demos and sketches of songs, mostly recorded in my home studio.
Part of the Netta&McGill duo.
Thanks for having a listen.

stfu (For a While)

Jim Mcgill

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