Written by Danny Flowers performed by Eric Clapton 1978

Bass, drums, vocal & mix : Little Man
All other instruments : PdB Orchestra

Tulsa Time

Recorded in Modesto, Ca.  Featuring Gibson 335 Electric Guitar solo. Selmer Alto Saxophone solo. Fender Rhodes Electric Piano Rhythm. Roland Synthesizer Bass. Korg Synthesizer Bass. Acoustic full drum kit set. Percussion, Bongos, Congas, Cowbell, Ago Go Bells. Electronic Kick Drum.

Cannery Row

Hey Bartender

Loves a puzzle , how and why is it so difficult to figure out ? 

Is love a game or just a maze
A hundred rules but no clear plays
I roll the dice I make my move
But every step I gotta prove

Twists and turns and lessons learned
Hearts on fire bridges burned

Is love a game is love a dare
I keep on chasing something rare
Full of risks full of rewards
But I still play can’t ignore

It’s hide and seek a guessing spree
You’re the lock but where’s the key
Every challenge every spark
Turns the light on in the dark

Is love a game is love a dare
I keep on chasing something rare
Full of risks full of rewards
But I still play can’t ignore


The stakes are high the rules unclear
But every loss pulls me near
To something bigger to something real
Love’s the prize that makes me feel

Loves a puzzle .mp3

Inspired by the American Songwriter Association’s weekly prompt to write a song about yourself, “Not That Girl” reflects my journey through divorce and rediscovering my strength.

Thank you for listening, liking, 
and reposting.

Written by Melinda Klotz Mercer
 • Argyll Music.

Not That Girl

street cat by Nova J

[Verse 1]
What’s your life like?
Flirting with your green eyes
Captivating me
Seducing me
I’m your slave 
This feral mind of mine
How it wanders, how it churns
These wild thoughts keep swirling
How they simmer, how they burn

[Chorus]
What it must be like…
To be a street cat…
To wander…
To roam…
To be free…

Ooh ooh

[Vers 2]
I fear for you
I don’t want your life to be hard
You take a drink and I feel chosen
But only for a moment before you run away 
You belong to no one
You are possessed by no one
You are sworn to no one 

[Chorus]
What it must be like…
To be a street cat…
To wander…
To roam…
To be free…

Ooh ooh

[Bridge]
The sun is finally shining
After two long weeks of rain
I even caught myself smiling
Like the old me again
But the storm always returns
And the wind always blows
My restless mind
These thoughts never slow

[Chorus]
What it must be like…
To be a street cat…
To wander…
To roam…
To be free…

Ooh ooh 

[Outro]
I try to sit quiet
I try to sit calm
Typhoons and tempests
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)

street cat

Time was born from heartfelt conversations with the most wonderful friend about what truly matters in life. We talked about how easy it is to rush through our days without noticing how precious each moment really is. This song is a reminder to live fully while we are here—enjoy the small joys, cherish the people we love, and speak the words we keep inside. Time encourages us to slow down, breathe, and make room for the things that give life meaning. Because once a moment passes, we cannot take it back, so we must choose to live, now. This is for you old friend.

LYRIC

Intro 
Ticking clocks inside my chest,
Reminding me there’s no reset,
Every second burns away,
So I won’t waste another day.

Verse
Running fast but standing still,
Counting hours we can’t refill,
Moments slipping through our hands,
We hold on tight to what we can.

Pre-Chorus
Don’t let it fade, don’t let it die,
We’ve only got this fragile time.

Chorus 
Time is racing, don’t let go,
Make it count, let the fire show,
Every heartbeat, every line,
We can’t replace this stolen time.

Verse
Chasing light across the sky,
No regrets, we won’t ask why,
Every scar and every tear,
Built the reason we are here.

Pre-Chorus
Don’t let it fade, don’t let it die,
We’ve only got this fragile time.

Chorus
Time is racing, don’t let go,
Make it count, let the fire show,
Every heartbeat, every line,
We can’t replace this stolen time.

Bridge
We can’t rewind, no second chance,
So let’s ignite while we still can.

Chorus
Time is racing, don’t let go,
Make it count, let the fire show,
Every heartbeat, every line,
We can’t replace this stolen time.

Outro
Time… we’re alive… tonight.

Time

7026 Swing

(FR) Vapeurs d’Opium est une dérive sonore, lente et suspendue, comme si l’instant s’étirait sous l’effet d’une tension invisible. Une présence fragile qui vacille… dans la lumière d’un rêve fragmenté.

(EN) Vapeurs d’Opium is a slow, suspended drift — as if time stretched under an invisible tension. A fragile presence flickering... in the fractured light of a dream.

My head is breaking… starry sky
A forbidden world (forbidden, forbidden)
Memories… erased
I’m about to fade away (away, away, away)

I can’t control my thoughts anymore
The génius warned me… before he died
The warden just walked past my door
[Shout] Wake me up… I want to run

If you follow me into my void
Through the city made of glass
We will rise again
I want to dream beyond… all spoken words
I want to fly beyond… your little stream of liberty

My eyes are closing
The wind blocks every path ahead
No escape from this strange city
My life is whispering its last goodbye

The city locked me in its walls
All my dreams have slipped away
I can never leave… e-ter-ni-ty

Lost in the maze inside my mind
I hear an echo — a cry with no voice
Shadows and light are dancing in me
Time stretches out… and tears me apart

I’ve crossed too many storms
The sun beats heavy on my head
I wish I could find you again
But you have… flown… a-way

Vapeurs d'Opium

I sat down to write a Christmas carol, and this is what happened. 
Instrumental: Kammerin Hunt
Vocals, lyrics, mix: Nadia Selvaggi

Try it On! by Kammerin Hunt & Nadia Selvaggi

In this extended version of Old Saint Nick we finally added all the things we wanted from the start but didn’t have time for. There’s a lovely intro by Mauro using Omnisphere, some backing vocals from Tom who handled production and mix, and a final instrumental section to put the cherry on top of this amazing musical cake created by the awesome Joe Stroffolino (https://soundcloud.com/joseph-stroffolino/old-saint-nick), of which we carved out a delicious Chiptune slice (https://soundcloud.com/beatingedge/old-saint-chip-instrumental-chiptune)!
Enjoy! We’ll be back in a week with one of our own songs. You can find the teaser here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPFKANVV9Us

©2025 Beating Edge & @Joseph-stroffolino

Credits:
Main Vocals, music and lyrics: Joe (@Joseph-stroffolino)
Guitar & Backing Vocals: Mary
Backing Vocals: Tom
Synths: Mauro
Bass & Synth Bass: Davide
Drums & Percussion: Valerio
Mixed & Produced by Tom

Lyrics:

St Nicholas was born in Turkey in the fourth century AD.
He became the bishop of Myra, and was known for his generosity.
They say he tossed three bags of gold into a poor family's dwelling,
And he raised three boys from the dead — it’s a legend, but it sure sounds compelling.

How did a man who lived in Turkey,
In a land that’s warm and sunny,
End up in the North Pole with flying reindeer
If you think about it, it’s kind of funny.

Nicholas died of old age in Myra in the year three forty-three.
They buried him in a tomb expecting him to rest eternally.
The years went by, the tales grew taller and his legend continued to grow,
And it was a fact that relics of a saint could earn you quite a bit of dough.

It’s good to give gifts to family and friends,
And people in need,
But sometimes it feels
Like we’re being manipulated
To buy things we don't need.

In 1087, there were sailors in two cities, Venice and Bari.
They decided they wanted St Nicholas's bones so they raced across the Adriatic Sea.
The sailors from Bari got there first and they took those bones by force and deception.
They brought them back to Bari and they were greeted with a heroic reception.

You can take all the bad parts of the story that happen in real life,
Remove the uncomfortable dark parts and keep only the light.
We sing our Christmas carols and say it’s the most magical time of the year.
For a few days we ignore all the bad stuff as we spread the Christmas cheer.

Old Saint Nick, Old Saint Nick, he tried to help those in need.
Old Saint Nick, Old Saint Nick, now he’s a mascot for corporate greed.
Old Saint Nick, Old Saint Nick, he tried so hard to help the poor.
Now he’s a giant plastic figurine who smiles as you walk into the big box store.

As we sit there ripping the paper off our presents underneath the Christmas tree,
It’s good to remember there are people out there who are less fortunate than you and me.
Maybe we can be a little bit more like Old Saint Nick — maybe we can.
Maybe we can be a little bit more like Old Saint Nick.

Old Saint Nick Extended Version

given my list of themes when I started working on my album “Despair,” here is my fourth-to-last song.

have you already been to an immersive art exhibition? using VR and AR glasses, 3D mapping, elaborately designed projections, and sophisticated soundscapes, these institutions offer the opportunity to witness art in a multisensory and emotional way.

before the remarkable advent of digital technology, this special pleasure could only be experienced by consuming widely discredited plants such as magic mushrooms, mescaline cacti, or a hawaiian baby woodrose. or through an instrument that has been almost replaced by electronic entertainment: human imagination.

this atrophying ability can unfold effects by far more immersive than anything that could ever be achieved through digital simulation because every imagination is absolutely unique, solely existing in the mind of the individual. 

think of the paintings by caspar david friedrich: heaps of immersive power for unique experiences, interpretations and lively discussions (one of carina and my favorite pastimes).

there is this enigmatic work, “winter landscape with church,” (see wikipedia), which at first glance shows exactly what its title suggests. but then you discover a detail in this scene, which has sparked the imagination of the many experts who have attempted to interpret it. many have identified religious messages in it.

I – largely unimpressed by christian iconography and theological confirmation bias – I just feel the icy cold mist creeping into my clothes, into my skin, into my bones. I smell the piercing frost in the air as the white fragrance of a vast nothingness. I hear the heavy silence of the snow. somewhere, the cry of a crow echoes, and an old tree sighs and cracks. I see the inhospitable outline of a cathedral, like a lifeless mirage from another world. and then, in front of me, I witness an infinitely wordless tragedy.

a person. in ultimate self-abandonment. in despair that leaves everything behind. following one final illusion that transforms a lonely death into a dream. a dream I tried to turn into a song. 

no need for special glasses.

©music and lyrics by Hans-Michael Albers, translational support by deepl, instrumental cover & vocal performance by suno 5


He drops in the snow where the cold winds bite
No clue where he’s heading, no strength left to fight 
His crutches tossed down like: Man, I’m done 
Breath turning to clouds in the weak morning sun

Tiny fir trees stand there, quiet and small 
Iced-up and shivering but still standing tall 
They’ve taken the storms and they’ve ridden the night
But damn, they look peaceful in that pale blue light

Lone, lost in hope
No way to cope
Ice freezing breath
Tears
Grief 
And death

Through the fog in the distance a steeple breaks through 
Like a half-faded signal saying: Hey, still you 
A ghost of a promise in the silence and snow 
A place for the lost when they’ve got nowhere to go

He stares at that church with a shake in his chest 
Worn-out as hell but still trying his best 
And something inside, real tiny, real thin
Goes: Yeah, you’re hurting, but you’re not cashing in

Lone, lost in hope…

He hauls himself up with the last of his drive
Snow on his jacket but wait, he’s alive 
And the church just waits there, calm like it knows: 
You’re stuck in the frost, but you’ll get where you go

Lone, lost in hope…


Lone, lost in hope

Composer for film, advertising and telephone on-hold systems.  
Professional voice messages, audio branding and custom music productions  
for companies of all sizes.

High-quality sound design, studio voices and fast delivery.  
Listen, download or request your custom audio here:

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7026 Swing

Horst Hoffmann

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