HOUSE OF GOLD
© 2022 Rinaldo/ O’Brien; All Rights Reserved
Music by Whitman Rinaldo; Lyrics by Alex O’Brien

Whitman Rinaldo: Vocals, Guitars, Bass, Mixing/Mastering
Pete Midipunk: Drums

In my house of gold
I am not alone
The secrets of this world
I have always known

In my house of gold
The penthouse glows
A beacon in the mist
With marble floors 

Come to my house of gold
I want your heart and soul
Watch your dreams unfold
In my house of gold
In my house of gold

In my house of gold
Futures bought and sold
And I replace my toys
With ones not old

In my house of gold
Walls are ages old
If anyone divulged
Wild stories told

Come to my house of gold
I want your heart and soul
Watch your dreams unfold
In my house of gold
In my house of gold

In this shiny house
No crowns are thorns
So I raise a toast
To privilege I was born
 
In my house of gold
I am in control
At what price you ask?
A force to behold

Come to my house of gold
I want your heart and soul
Watch your dreams unfold
In my house of gold
In my house of gold

Share the feast
Calm the beast
Sensations are in reach
See the lights
Scale the heights
Always win your fight
In my house of gold

In my house of gold
In my house of gold
In my house of gold
In my house of gold
In my house of gold
In my house of gold
Gold
Gold

House Of Gold

Lifecycles

Not Sure

On The Run

Your Man

The discreet ceremony of life changes and growth, a quiet conversation 

She's leaning forward absently
searching like she's drifting 
so she can speak to me
why spread my blossom neath a cloudy sky
(petals wet and dripping)
in places where my hips grow wide
where the earth is cleaved and ripped aside
the solid rush as such...
she whispers of her first bed hush
the secret of her bloom 
the unveiling of new moons
with her breath against my ear
she quivers in her fear
searching like she's drifting as she speaks to me
when the moon subsides
I will shake these petals dry
while my curves enjoy new spaces
in the places they grow wide
a faded blush as such 
echoes of her first bed hush
yea
I can feel her touch
lips parted near
warm and soft across the years
the perfume of her speech drifting absently
so she could speak to me
the unveiling of new moons
the secret hush of blooms

#girlhood

Secret Hush

Sarajevo, recorded on the street at the gate, circa 21.00.
To learn more about the musical history of these kind of Adhans -see
https://folkways-media.si.edu/docs/folkways/magazine/2014_fall_winter/Muslim-Call-to-Prayer.pdf

Adhan 20 - 4-2023 - Gazi Husrev Begova Džamija

Mark 15: 24-37

Jesus hangs on the cross - is maliciously mocked by many of the people gathered there - his last words and death - postlude

On The Run

Walkin' in Pa's Footsteps