Traveling with the windows down kind of music..Beautiful😊

Love it! almost get the feel of Ealing studios in some of the themes (imo a compliment!)

Really enjoyable track - Great production :)

great ideas coming together here, love tue diff sections

Since I Met The Master # 008, Gene Jumper, ( Original)

Since I Met The Master, # 008 Gene Jumper, ( Originial )

As the old Soviet joke goes, “In the Soviet Union, we know what the future holds. It’s the past that’s always changing.”      (lyrics below, after the song description)                                             
                                                     ****************
In this small, quaint college town, the town-gown relationship, for most of the 150 plus years since the college’s founding, had been productive.  The town benefited economically,  & students appreciated the town's charm, history & heritage.   Often on sunny days, classes of students would visit the park at the downtown square, brought by their history professors to learn not only of the town's history, but also about eleven young local men lost in America's Civil War, memorialized by the modest statue of a lone soldier, who had stood like a sentry at the the park's entrance since 1905.

But times change, don't they...
                                                   ********************

More Americans died in the American Civil War than in any other war in our country's history, including each of the World Wars.  In my song, the word "Daughters" references the Daughters Of The Confederacy, a women's civic group formed in the 1890's by daughters (and wives & nieces) of men lost in that war.  The attached picture is the inscription on the base of a statue of a uniformed soldier, standing in a park in Dallas, Georgia, a small town 30 miles northwest of Atlanta.
                                                            



Lyrics....
My name is McKenzie, and Jenkins and Embry,
And eight other names you still hear in these parts,
For over a century, I stood quiet at the entry,
On East Main into Lafayette Park,
A plaque was engraved, told why I was placed,
On those gardened grounds,
In this Small American Town.

Commissioned in 1905,
By the Daughters for fathers who died,
I was erected to honor eleven so bold,
Not a single one knowing he’d never grow old,
On these boys account I’d forever stand proud,
Stand sturdy & stout,
In this Small American Town.

The kids from the college on Heritage Hill,
Would hold class in the park’s warm sunshine,
They learned of this cruel war we waged with ourselves,
How 600,000 had died,
And of eleven from here just about their age,
Small farmers & blacksmiths & craftsmen by trade,
None fought for cotton, not one owned a slave,
And they learned why the Daughters placed me on that mound,
To keep those boys’ memories around,
In this Small American Town.

But enlightened new students don’t meet in that space,
Through new glasses old wars just don’t look the same,
Now scholars say men who went off to that war,
Fought not out of duty, but hate,
I feared I’d be forgotten by Heritage Hill,
Yesterday’s soldiers, obscure battlefields,
But alas, rearranged history determined my fate,
                          **************
Wise men have long warned of changing the past,
Of purges & vengeance & iconoclasts,
Then one fateful night there was smoke rolling down from the Hill,

Quickly surrounded by torches of fire,
Cursing & spitting & rage in the air,
Rope round my shoulders, a cheer by the crowd,
I came crashing down to the ground….
                         **************
An uneasy quiet in the town since that day,
Hushed conversations about how things have changed,
But up on the Hill it’s all smiles & goodwill,
For it’s the 2nd weekend in May,
Ceremonial speeches, awards all around,
Uncles & aunts & parents in town,
To watch the sweet children who torched & burned me to the ground,
Be awarded their caps & their gowns,
In this Small American Town.

Small American Town

secrets

Secrets

collaboration with IPG1.
Lyrics by IPG1 (aka Ian Greaves)

IPG1 & Quick On The Drawing - Oh Yeah Lou

The title "Ballad for Alma" reminded me of an episode in the Book of Mormon, where the son of a presiding high priest went among the people, telling them to disbelief his father. Here I imagined what could be the father thoughts, with a small meditation on the nature of hope, faith, and charity.

BALLAD FOR ALMA

No one wants to be alone,
either in bliss or sorrow.
Angels above invite.
Demons from hell entice.

In the great fight for the souls
you chose to disbelieve it all,
join the skeptics, praise  the world,
delighted to play with fire.

Still I hope you'll come back home.
Hope is belief and desire.
New hearts are given to some.
Beliefs are our choice alone.

And then there's faith.
Faith is more than wishfull thinking.
Faith is hope with revelation
from the subtle mighty voice
that can burn, but cannot lie.

Thus I trust that voice to warn you.
Then you'll see and then you'll cry.
From the deepness of despair,
in the dire and lonely night,
all will seem beyond repair.
But what I told you will come to mind.
And then you'll remember the name you should call,
and it's going to be allright.

There's no charity in darkness:
It's a feature of the light.
Demons from hell entice,
but love will always invite.

Ballad For Alma JFC (Based on Neno J. guitar piece)

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