Don’t Fade Away
Will it take decades to fade,
Is there enough time in a century,
To rewrite all of history?
Will it even take a decade to fade?
Please forgive my curiosity,
Sometimes it gets the best of me.
The intuition of the Inuit,
Well… they seem to have it,
Global warming gasers,
Are worse than terrorists,
Slowly killing the masses,
Because self-fulfillment,
We can’t resist,
Bringing on pain through disasters,
Bringing it on faster and faster,
All hopes being dashed,
As time passes,
All hopes… smashed,
Do you think it’s meant?
No! Don’t fade away,
Hey, hey, hey,
Don’t fade away,
Hey!
Let’s move away,
Hey, hey, hey,
From trouble stray,
Hey!
Live another day,
Hey, hey, hey,
Don’t fade away.
(repeat and fade)
How About Myself?
You don’t stink much,
How ’bout me?
We don’t think much –
Unfortunately.
How about myself?
How ’bout me,
Is my offense stealth,
baby Or does it bury?
Do I flow sooooooo…
You’re up to your eyes?
Do I know so,
And, just compromise?
Compromise the principle,
And, claim “’cause I’m simple!”
You don’t stink much,
How ’bout me?
Your hole smells fine,
How ’bout mine?
We don’t think much –
Stupidity
Tirade (On Parade)
We thought we had it made,
’til Mercury,
Threw it into retrograde.
We thought, “Made in the shade,”
’til everybody,
Spazzed n’ went into — TIRADE!
Poking each other in the eye,
Could we move any further awry?
Promoting attacks,
Or, turning our backs,
What do I care… barely?
Poked In The Eye As long as it’s not me,
That has to die,
Until I’m left standing alone,
Maybe that would bring it home?
The thought,
The idea,
That we’re in this together,
It’s brought,
To be dear,
Left with myself… forever.
Having thought it threw,
I can speak for me,
But, don’t know about you?
I’m afraid,
Of TIRADE!
No… don’t wanna see TIRADE! on parade.
meddleURGEy
I thought I smelt something bad,
In Denmark,
Maybe some Limburger cheese I had,
Left its mark?
I study the urge to meddle,
And, in fact,
It’s a craving,
I’ve been having.
Metallurgy is solid,
Something I can get my arms around,
And, it’s been found,
The science is valid,
But, meddle-URGEy,
Is riddled with variables,
Like brain surgery,
We could be left vegetables.
The art of working meddles,
And, how the huckster peddles,
Trying his best,
To sell his mess.
The art of working meddles,
Ore, separating one from other matters?
Extracting one’s responsibility,
From how it effects me.
I study the urge to meddle,
And, in fact,
It’s a craving,
I’ve been having.
NOTES
Webster’s Definition:
Metallurgy
\Met”al*lur`gy\, n. [F. m['e]tallurgie, fr. L. metallum metal, Gr. — a mine + the root of work. See {Metal}, and {Work}.] The art of working metals, comprehending the whole process of separating them from other matters in the ore, smelting, refining, and parting them; sometimes, in a narrower sense, only the process of extracting metals from their ores.
Ear In-Funktion
by Mess
lyrics
Are you out there?
And, can you hear me?
Or, is this not exactly
What you wanted to see?
Does this bother you
Bother you
Bother you
Terribly?
Are you out there?
And, can you hear me?
Is this not
Is this not
Your reality?
Does it bother you
Bother you
Bother you
Terribly?
Are you out there?
Are you listening?
Can you look
Deep within
Can we start again?
In the darkest night
It brings on the fright
Can we get things right
In the darkest night
Can we bring on the light?
Are you out there?
Can you hear me?
Is this not your
Reality
Does this bother you
Bother you
Bother you
Terribly?
Is there anybody out there?
Can you hear me?
Set us free
In the darkest night
Does it bring on the fright
Can we ever get things right?
In the darkest night
Do you feel like the blight
Are you out there
Can you secure
Being part of the cure
Not so far offshore?
Maybe it’s not too late
Don’t wait!
ABOUT THIS SONG
The song was recorded in an impromptu session. It was suppose to be a multi-track recording, but the computer kept failing. Instead, it was captured as a 1 track stereo 48kHz MP3 on an M-audio digital recorder. The drums and keyboards were made on a Casio workstation. The lyrics were sung off the top-of-my-head. Its intending meaning is that a voice from heaven is talking to humankind about what man is doing to the planet and each other.
Ear In-Funktion Free MP3 Download
Ear In-Funktion Instrumental
Oh, Well
Though most of my recordings are extemporaneous, there is no one way that I write and record songs. This song is unusual in that it became part of many live performances, yet had never been recorded. So, I started recording a wide variety of renditions. Below is a link to a few:
Ga, Ga, Ga, Go!
Originally, this song was recorded with the intention of adding vocal tracks; however, the instrumental grew on me. Then, when I went to record vocals, it wasn’t possible due to the intensity of the synthesizer.
The song was written “live” using the Guitar Hero World Tour Recording Studio connected through an Inspire 1394 Controller into Cubase LE as a 48kHz wave file. The .wav was converted to an MP3 using RazorLame.
Keyboard Music
by Mess
A collection of songs and sounds written extemporaneously on a keyboard. Almost all the songs were played on a Korg micro-keyboard. They tend to be non-traditional sounding sonic experiments. The 1/4 inch outputs were plugged directly into an M-audio digital recorder and captured as 48kHz MP3 files.
Guitar Music
by Mess
A collection of songs written extemporaneously (for the most part.) Quite a few of the songs were played using a Yamaha electric 6-string guitar through a Digi-tech effects pedal. The 1/4 inch outputs were plugged directly into an M-audio digital recorder and captured as 48kHz MP3 files. Sometimes items, such as a glass bottle neck, were used as slides or for other techniques.
Songs vary from more traditional verse / chorus to unique sonic experiments.
Some of the songs were recorded using a classical nylon string guitar through an open microphone.
Is There Life On Ours?
While looking down on the human race from high up in a jet airliner, I started thinking about the meaning of life. What will I make of my time on Earth? I have free will. It is my choice whether to take advantage of this gift.
Is there intelligent life on this planet of ours?
lyrics
From a mile high
In the sky
How big am I
Are we all
Rather small
In the big
Picture
A rapture
Of conjecture
To conglomerate
Our fate
Is it destiny
Or self-inflicted
Tragedy
A travesty
Of conflicted
Travelings
From the birth
To the death
Is there intelligent
Life on Earth
Or merely worthless
Time spent