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.

℗ © Copyright 2024 Ian Stokes. All Rights Reserved
Recorded, mixed and mastered in Logic.
Guitar played: Taylor 714CE in standard tuning (capo 3rd fret)
Photography:
Thanks go to Nigel and Libby Hume at Hume Photography.
SONG NOTES AND LYRICS:
Let the rain come down 
Take this river to the sea
Let the rain come down
Take this river to the sea
Way out here
Just the rain and the river and me

Let the rain come down 
The things this old river has seen 
Let the rain come down 
The things this old river has seen
Way out here
It’s just the rain and the river me

From the top of this hill 
How this river flows
Doing what a river does 
What a river knows 
Let the rain come down 
Take the river where the river goes 

Let the rain come down 
What will be will be 
Let the rain come down 
What will be will be 
Way out here
Just the rain and the river and me

The Rain and The River and Me

Music & Lyrics: Jan Schonander

EYES WIDE OPEN

The leaves are changing
There’s a chill in the air
So many people
Walking the same path

I hope they know
I hope they see

I chose a different road
I chose a different way
And now my eyes are open
My eyes are wide open

I’m on another hill
I watch as they pass me by
They seem to know
They have their destination

I hope they know
I hope they see

I chose a different road
I chose a different way
And now my eyes are open
My eyes are wide open

Such a wondrous time
So many colors
So many lives

All joined together
Some left behind
There’ll be another day
Another day

I chose a different road
I chose a different way
And now my eyes are open
My eyes are wide open

Eyes Wide Open

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

New start after finishing SC and Spotify Album - Eccentricity so Beautiful.
This title jumped off a page and lately in the live act we've been doing some 80s songs: I think that influenced the approach here.
 
Decarbonizing Aviation
Decarbonizing Aviation
 
It’s a new concsiousness
Vapor trails gone West
Sometimes you got to make a change
To keep love on forever’s path
Your shaking trees are exhausting me
Better a sundown heart to heart
 
Decarbonizing Aviation – night swimming and seeing it spark
Decarbonizing Aviation – going steady yeah not too fast
 
Glaciers and shrinking
Habitats and mourning
Can we glide the plane back home
Gotta give up on bad bad stuff
Seven days of denial nights
I think we know that enough’s enough

Decarbonising Aviation

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)

Words and music written by Bartley Charles Mastin
Performance by Bartley Charles Mastin
Copyright 2024 All Rights Reserved

Lyrics:
Don't want to be a rose
You want to be a wildflower
Never mind the sun
You want to take a moon shower

Half a mile from here we'll disappear aboard the midnight train

You say you're getting old
You say you've reached a milestone mama
You're tired of being sold
You're tired of all the hometown drama

Half a mile from here we'll disappear aboard the midnight train

I love the way the moon glows
I love the way the wind blows
When it goes
Through your hair

Gonna be a wild ride mama
Gonna be a rodeo
Gonna be an LA drama
Gonna have to rope me down

Half a mile from here we'll disappear aboard the midnight train

Half A Mile From Here

We are pleased to present track 6 from our latest album, 'Haunting One Seven,' full album available on Bandcamp, we hope you’ll enjoy!

outstation.bandcamp.com/album/haunting-one-seven

Haunting One Seven

Pastoral Eventide

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

ICD10: F60.3 Jersey housewife Roberta spices up her boring life by reading personal ads, especially those of a mysterious denizen of New York City named Susan.

One of Susan's ads proposes a rendezvous with her suitor.

Roberta secretly tags along. 

But when her voyeuristic joke ends in permanent memory loss, Roberta begins to gather a lot of unwanted attention.

feels like I’m going to lose my mind

Does It Matter - (IWCY Part 3)

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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