Music is a gift. Those who are blessed to receive have a responsibility to share. This song is dedicated to everyone who has ever felt like giving up, to the survivors of suicide and their families, to the stolen generations and their families, to my Mom who imprinted her music into my DNA, to the San Poil Band of the Colville Confederated Tribes, to my sister who told me to start making music again, and to my son, my muse. It is an honor to be your mother. 

Lyrics:
There is a beast
that feeds
on our blood sweat and tears
and He's hungry
And he'll never be full 
Said he's got the right to do 
Whatever he wants
But its not a right that we recognize

And the fires burned for miles and miles and miles
and miles
and the river ran dry
All your monuments to progress
look like graveyards to me
And now the oceans catching fire

Do you believe in redemption, and love
Do you believe in a good life, for us
I know life is pain, until we die 
Can I have one more day with you?

Well it wasn't the first time, and it wont be the last
Look in your crystal ball to see the past
Measure your life in terms of stones
And it won't be long
Can I have one more day with you?

**Hold fast to hope, even tho
**Your heart is broken
**Even tho feel like you're choking on this life
**Even tho, you wanna lay down and die sometimes
**Hold fast, hold fast to hope

I believe in redemption, and love
In a good life, for all of us'
I know life is pain, until we die
Can I have one more day with you?

What if life can be beautiful after all?

Can i have one more day with you?

Music is a gift. Those who are blessed to receive have a responsibility to share. This song is dedicated to everyone who has ever felt like giving up, to the survivors of suicide and their families, to the stolen generations and their families, to my Mom, who imprinted her music into my DNA, to the San Poil and Arrow Lakes Bands of the Colville Confederated Tribes, to my sister who told me to start making music again, and to my son, my muse: It is an honor to be your mother.

Lyrics:
There is a beast
that feeds
on our blood sweat and tears
and He's hungry
And he'll never be full
Said he's got the right to do
Whatever he wants
But its not a right that we recognize

And the fires burned for miles and miles and miles
and miles
and the river ran dry
All your monuments to progress
look like graveyards to me
And now the oceans catching fire

Do you believe in redemption, and love
Do you believe in a good life, for us
I know life is pain, until we die
Can I have one more day with you?

Well it wasn't the first time, and it wont be the last
Look in your crystal ball to see the past
Measure your life in terms of stones
And it won't be long
Can I have one more day with you?

**Hold fast to hope, even tho
**Your heart is broken
**Even tho feel like you're choking on this life
**Even tho, you wanna lay down and die sometimes
**Hold fast, hold fast to hope

I believe in redemption, and love
In a good life, for all of us'
I know life is pain, until we die
Can I have one more day with you?

What if life can be beautiful after all?

Special thank you to Bubba @contactcreate. You're a Gem.

Can i have one more day with you ?

Roland system 1m, TR-8, Demora, Bastl Noise and square sounds, STG Soundlabs Graphic sequencer, Xaoc Tirana sequencer, Brains, Maths, Addac Ultra WAV player

Eye Patch

Intellijel Shapeshifter stereo into Mannequins Three Sisters stereo out to Schippman Phaser, touch of stereo Tiptop audio zdsp delay

ShapelySisters

Wolves

Moonshine Gospel

Leaky Old Hammond

'The Monk' -- It tells of a Franciscan monk I saw who was trekking alone through the New Mexico wilds.  I was on a road trip with my girlfriend of the time, and we saw him a few different times, many miles apart, staff in hand, burlap robe, big beard, head bald and down -- determined.  

I am not a particularly religious man, but I do credit all those who deeply live their beliefs -- while allowing others to do the same.  My girlfriend and I were driving.  The monk was walking.  Still, I'm guessing he's gone much farther than we have.

"I passed a monk today on a crow fly highway.  
The moon was in his eye.  
The picture told me words of fateful flyby
History's left behind.  

I saw him today in a Gila wood den and 
Yesterday down by White Sands.

We didn't speak a word
Still heard love killing sorrow
A robe full of gold
A climbing soul

A rough chin ever so slightly tucked in
Asked for naught yet was given

And it's Angel Fire in every soul I know
Truth or Consequences"

The Monk

Trying to recreate the sounds of the 70's


Original multitrack file; http://cambridge-mt.com/ms/mtk/#IkebeShakedown

Drums Fir Original

Arthur Stone

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