Twisting and reeling
Chasing a feeling
Your pure beauty calls me
Faceless and ghostly
.
Try to reach my hand to you
You drift away just as I do
Falling like a shooting star
I always wonder who you are
.
Feels like I’m dreaming
Time has no meaning
Are you reaching for me?
You spin away so quickly

Doves

Kodachrome

Bossa Nova Theme No. 4

See music score on YouTube: https://youtu.be/-Hzdfw1eHWo

Follow me on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/0oDODEInyOq0C8yo2I04dg?si=hTp3XjmgSPGukA31Uzslvw

Let It Roll!

FOOL (in studio)

Dixieland klezmer with a bit of ragtime piano.  Took a while to put together but the balance was worth it.  Lots of post filtering.  Enjoy the weirdness.

Here is me with the cheapest accordian that I own while I was recovering from COVID:
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/aQdIUyRX-dQ

LYRICS:
I was lookin' out my window
Through the reflection of a mirror,
And through the rain,
Suddenly, an obelisk appeared.
Behind the transparent obelisk
Was a mystic apparition
That presented forth a document
With a very strong position.

And I heard him ask, in all honesty, for my blatant truth opinion...
What would be my thoughts if I were from his crystalline dominion?
Could I lay out any arguments quite plainly in his ear?
I paused for just a moment to ensure that I was... coherent...

I said, "it's clear that it's clear that it's clear that it's clear."
"I have no obstructed views," and as his peer,
I would calculate with certainty the probability of the result.
But then he disappeared and it was clearly not my fault...

It's clear that it's clear that it's clear.

I said, "it's clear that it's clear that it's clear that it's clear."
"I have no obstructed views," and as his peer,
I would calculate with certainty the probability of the result.
But then he disappeared and it was clearly not my fault, because...
It's clear that it's clear that it's clear that it's clear...

It's Clear

one weekend only

The Drop was written about 20 years ago, shortly after I got a Korg Triton.  I was exploring the many sounds within the keyboard when I found a nice synth sound along with  a reggae style beat.....song is in the key of Eb minor moving to Gb minor in the solo......enjoy!

The Drop

Say what you want
Cos I'm not listening
I'm not listening
Cos I've heard it before
I've heard it before
So why don't you shut up
Why don't you shut up
Cos I can't ignore you

You're the echo
(On and on)
You're the echo
(On and on)
You're the echo
You're the echo
Once again

Hate in your ears
Words are your weapons
Words are your weapons
And truth is the victim
Truth is the victim
Cos you just make it up
You just make it up
Does reality bore you?

Say What You Want (You're The Echo)

When they made you there was nothing in your eyes,
You contain it, with tomorrow in your lies.
Smiles to fake it, but you tell me you’re alright,
Can’t mistake it, I can see you’re in disguise. 

You know what flowers taste like here because you put them in the ground,
The clouds slow down to show me now, you shot me full of holes, you shot me full of holes. 

Alone, I’m walking, just my legs here in the sand.
Silver medal, a frustrated yesterday’s man. 
A joke, a warning, like a statue, fallen down. 
I can’t contain it, but you tell me that’s alright

You know what flowers taste like here because you put them in the ground,
The clouds slow down to show me now, you shot me full of holes, you shot me full of holes. 
My feet can’t touch the ground right now, with all the words that spin around, 
The clouds slow down to show me now, you shot me full of holes, you shot me full of holes.

What is it, this thing, to me?

Dream it, build it, burn it, to the ground, 
Dream it, build it, burn it, to the ground, 
Dream it, build it, burn it, to the ground, 
regret repeat, recycle again. 
Dream it, build it, burn it, to the ground, 
Dream it, build it, burn it, to the ground, 
Dream it, build it, burn it, to the ground, 
regret repeat, recycle again.
 
 .

[Spoken word part]
Paralysed by our own insignificance, unable to move
We let our mind wander freely between the stars
In this seemingly endless paradox, a void that is full
As are our hearts and minds
Why are we here?
Who created who?
Or what? Or why?
Is the nebula a physical manifestation of a thought?
Do we explore outside of ourselves, or inside?
Trapped in a prison of trying to understand that which is beyond our grasp
Yet we reach for it still, teetering on the edge of the precipice
Existence is futile yet we still crave immortality
Searching for the truth of an answer to an unasked question
Is this a dreamless sleep, or a sleepless dream?

Then we see it, like a jewel, like a dream
A place so perfect for us, it makes us weep
Is this what all the searching has been for?
Did we somehow know it was here or did we just believe?
In this untouched paradise, so fresh and green
A world wrapped in cellophane for us to reveal
Yet somewhere in the glorious forests that cover the land
There is a clearing in the trees
Fallen statues lay upon the ground
They hide their crumbling faces shamefully in the dirt
Or stare lifelessly at the vastness above
Their limbs entangled by snaking vines
The moss grows like a tumour on their exposed bodies
As nature reclaims the world of the arrogant
Is this our past, or our future?

Bossa Nova Theme No. 4

Willem Bijleveld