J Ordon: Recent Episodes
J Ordon
Spotify.. https://open.spotify.com/artist/2UiCWt5pIbzDfivZabTIoW?si=uYPIULURS7qKEpo9Dh7FAQ I've written music for Taye Diggs, Ian Gillan of Deep Purple and the Africa collection below is from a movie I scored starring Hugh Jackman. Please check out my Art & Poetry book at http://www.h-a-r-p-o.com.au Thank you for visiting folk jazz rock Vegan artist J Ordon , AKA Mascot's Distance.
A instrumental version of a composition about trying to be more in touch with your softer side, whether it be personally, in a relationship or in society..It's about being kinder to yourself and the world, whether you are a man or a woman.
Dear renegade’s - As gentle as the rolling hills, the bramble and the deer, the night it holds hushed secrets meant for only your ears. As fleeting as a truffula tree on paper framed by silk embroidered oak and gold melting in the rain…hey a sneed is a thing that everyone needs, who cares about the majestic truffula trees?
Does Anybody Hear Me appeared after a bad psychedelic experience about 3 1/2 decades ago, same time I recorded Anna Marie. I just recorded it a few months ago and thought I'd post to see whether or not it might b something people like...
Recording was made in 1992, have been to shy to show it to people, but just dumped off the 8 track and thought I'd put it
A healthy computer sais there's something in your hair and you sound like a jazzy Mazy Star. Buttons, levers and electric circuits compliment your deep browns. Borrowing nectar from wasps, don't be one of those smart no heart gents. How'd the tape get tangled on my vintage answering machine? I guess I'll ask the golden twirl who is filled with truisms and yesterdays gone.
Drunk Psychiatrist kissed by the night, commanded by the skin of his teeth-use to be small and couldn't see over the wall, but grew five feet and now can see it all, bearing the kings baby on a lonely mandatory and recreational reversing of disease flip phone...so many commercials...not enough promiscuous hairy roofing over the Grand Canyon.
Beautiful girl in the elevator, bubble gum and hair spray, then into the lobby with smell of baby powder and beer. It’s 5:46 and there ain't no sign of the sun coming up for another hour or two, connections are strange now, people still drunk or rushing off to work, or both, lol....Theater people and suits and the sound of music, last night's noise still coming out of a dirty bar on this snowy city morning.
Might I interest you in a bit of day light? There’s a lot of it up here still.. will do my best to get it to you on time…
Have you ever realized you can't "unexplain" something...it's not even a word in the dictionary..
Pig footed pigeon toed people in the form of Tonka Toy flesh are tearing up there yoga mats..I don't know why.. Bubble gum and hairspray may be the solution. I say you're as pretty as you look in the fine line between home runs and fouls.
There were the three of us in the room, remember Mike put on the cd and I said you can tell that vocalist has a good heart by the way he articulates, and you just laughed and I said really, what do you know anyway, you married a dagger, Mike turned his head and you told me to grow up, and now the crowd at the bar is smiling at me. There’s this old burnt out movie theatre on the corner of sixth ave. and seventh street, I think I'll sleep there tonight.
13 birds circling about a quarter mile high in the sky, I’ve never seen so many birds circling so high, there are no robots in sight. He’s not too friendly but he’s got a heart of gold, at a young age he fell in love with falling in love. I’ll be the first to break the silence, the silence that’s been kept as long as it’s taken the river to carve the canyon, the canyon between you and me. You bought a black and white color chart with blood money, I’m talk-in money from the blood bank. Driving up a one way road, cursing at everyone as you go, trees look like broccoli in a miniature world. And now it’s five o’clock Thursday afternoon and Friday’s in the air.
I can’t see over the Southhampton hedges, it’s good to be taken seriously, but no more serious then you are, there’s the sound of a festival in the street, see all the skinny people eating ice cream- it sure is heaven when you’re not in hell.
You on the phone hunched over in a sweater..it’s nice to see you on the pottery wheel again, I’ve missed the smell of wet clay, and David believes he has painted The Seine At Argenteuil from scratch- all while I was pondering the fact that sound has shape when suddenly I got pulled over by a firetruck
Tune popped out while exploring some lyrical concepts that I had been tossing around for a few years...ideas like what subconscious elements and forces lead one to make certain desperate decisions. What drives me? What values define my actions, etc...
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could do better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
A late night rose rides at dark...Giant egg houses line spaghetti streets enveloped in darkness and carried by hope.A narrative shall explain the rest......I speak to you from beyond a cold dark night...one where comfort relieves loneliness...and love insights and denies no one...speaking with a keen agenda and riding close to many borders, there is a sight to be seen, so let us not waste another minute...it is a place where questions are answered, abundance restored and affliction forgotten...As to what and where it is I am referring...come with me on an artistic tale and find an untangling of inquires..for it shall be known, and known only, as the land of Humane..Speaking to you through music, poetry and space age technology, this is a story of a place and way in which there were people for whom to which they referred to themselves as Humanes-(the sound of rain rushing thru). They proudly thought that was the most apt description of themselves since that was what came first in all their decisions. You see The question was always, for them, when coming to a junction, was, is, this humane?, or often, is this the most humane way to proceed? Therefor a race of Humanes they were.In this land and way of being were many attractions and mysterious adventures always waiting to be discovered. One of which was the traveling of the inner land and to of which the discovery of unimagined encounters with other friendly beings who had all been doing what they had and were always amazed at you and your unique moments which had gathered about you so, so to meet you with joy was the only meeting way, which all Humanes and others were so very grateful for.Misery unleashed like a beautiful yearning for the color in a black and white sunset that doesn’t exist. And the world behind the mirror.Small talk with meaning which is easy to understandWinning by default a race you tried to lose out of mercyThen to tap a spring and feed a well and grow in a field and wait no longer for a love that’s been dangled like a carrot for to long, just around the corner, one more second if only I tried a little harder, is it now in reaching distance?And then just the fog of a damp spring evening.The doorman all on the watch and the suburbanites in their trucks on the way home. Back to their perch at a distance, where they can see the city with some perspective, different from us.Us the dust the dirt the sturdy, the broken yet working, the usual crowd, the ones in the stairwell who see by scent, and never think to ask, yet rather choose to wait it out.All the while knowing it could be better.In humane you meet a man who invented the wheel, man who invented the lever, and woman who invented the sail..they r all close friends and live together.
My drunk psychiatrist thinks he's being pornographic but to me it seems spiritual by J Ordon
Featuring Keith Carlock, Brian Allen, Pat Coil, Laurent Medelgi, Barry Green, Mark Douthit and Steve Patrick.
Lyrics by Teng...music jordon..
They do not see my strain They want to eat The inner side of hope The brain of my life
Chorus
I live as soul of monkey Loving the fragrant trees I want to be free I fear my grief
verse 2.. Now they enjoy my brain Chew cheerfully They stultify my hope My body will die
Chorus2
I live as soul of monkey Loving the fragrant trees I want to be free I fear my grief
I will not hate bad folly They make me so weak I need a safety I have to leave
Chorus 3
I live as soul of monkey Loving the fragrant trees I want to be free I fear my grief
I will not hate bad folly They make me so weak I need a safety I have to leave
Look at the world through your eyes Your little windows That’s all you can do so I’ll understand if you can’t see my view
And I’m so glad I really am It’s just that sometimes when a guy finds love he forgets his friends
But I’m sure that you can’t forget.
Saturday nights out with the boys Chasin’ the girls, drinkin’ till we went blind Remember those days down by the shore We’d cruise around until the sun went down
But I hope those days aren’t gone Even though you’re in love ‘Cause I don’t want to lose my best friend
Summer was brutal that year But unlike the weather Things got better for some of us here And you’re not alone now
‘Cause I can see from many sides including your’s and mine since love aint’ rendered me totally blind
But I guess we see what we want
So have a good time out with your girl Saturday night under the city lights I’ll be alright out with the boys chasing the girls drinking till we go blind
But I hope you’ll come around Even though you’re in love ‘Cause I don’t wanna lose my best friend
WHO’S THAT KNOCKIN ON MY BACK DOOR LIKE THE WAY I DONE BEFORE WHO’S THAT KNOCKIN LIKE I WAS BACK THEN
WHAT YOU LOOKIN FOR ANYWAY WE'VE SAID ALL THERE IS TO SAY THERE AINT NO ONE LEFT TO BLAME
YOU KNOW I NEVER MEANT TO BRING YOU DOWN BUT OUR KARMA BABY WAS SO UNEVEN THAT’S HOW I COULD RELAX WITHOUT THE GUILT OF KNOWIN HOW YOU CRIED FROM THE STRING OF LIES YOU SPUN INSIDE YOUR HEAD and that’s why
NOW YOUR KNOCKIN ON MY BACK DOOR LIKE THE WAY I'VE DONE BEFORE NOW YOU’RE KNOCKIN LIKE I WAS BACK THEN aint gonna let you in
REMEMBER WHAT YOU SAID WHEN YOU TOLD ME THAT I WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND CERTAIN PEOPLE ARE JUST SMARTER WELL HOW COULD I FORGET WHEN I KNEW YOU WERE TALKING ‘BOUT ME SO MUCH WISDOM IN YOUR SYMPATHY
BUT WHO’S THAT KNOCKIN ON MY BACK DOOR LIKE THE WAY I'VE DONE BEFORE WHO’S THAT LOOKIN LIKE I WAS BACK THEN
WHAT YOU LOOKIN HERE FOR ANYWAY THERE AINT NOTHIN LEFT TO SAY YOU’RE JUST LOOKIN FOR SOMEONE TO BLAME
OH DARLING YOU CAN’T GO BLAMING ME FOR YOU ‘CAUSE YOU GOT TO FEEL LIKE A FOOL I KNOW BUT IT AINT ME BABY YOU GOTTA LOOK INTO YOURSELF IF YOU WANNA FIND SOMEONE TO BLAME
SO STOP THAT HANGIN BY MY BACK DOOR LIKE THE WAY I DONE BEFORE NOW YOU’RE LOOKIN LIKE I WAS BACK THEN AND I’M WONDERIN WONDERIN WHAT YOU LOOKIN FOR ANYWAY WE’VE SAID ALL THERE IS TO SAY THERE AINT NO ONE LEFT TO BLAME
Our Secret -written by Jordon Rothstein for Carol and Walter Baris
You know that I have a secret inside That no one else knows but you and I With so much love surrounding And so much time here with you I’ve come to realize a thing or two about you.
-With love so delicate It’s no easy trick answering questions like how like how do we stay day after day So in love
I wish that I could tell you The answer Cause it’s simple But I can’t
Cause it’s our secret…
You see and I see similarly On issues and topics but not exactly Our friends and children ask us How do you keep a love For sixty six years with a flame still burning bright I reply
-With love so delicate It’s no simple trick answering questions like how Like how have we stayed day after day So in love
I wish that I could tell you The answer Cause it’s simple But I can’t
Cause it’s our secret…
But If I were to tell, could you understand And could you keep the secret safe Yet words are only words and often they fall short So maybe there is nothing to tell Maybe there is nothing to tell wink wink
-With love so delicate no magic trick can help find the answers to how Like how have we stayed day after day So in love
I wish that I could tell you A bit more Cause it’s so simple Once you know
but it’s our secret yes it’s our secret oh I don’t want to jinx it I’m looking for a few hundred more years with you So I’m gonna keep
Our secret…
I guess your not sure 'bout the house rules And just what's going on here. Well you're not alone.
But all I know is I can see the open fields and alley ways When I look to you Like you used to look to me
But I can't believe that you're that same old boy The one who couldn't find his way Out of the maze she drew you
You were an eagle in the highest tree But couldn't see for miles around All of the joy that your wings could bring
But now there's a tune you sing That gets you by You found the garden On the inside
You were a poor boy then But now you fly Above your mansion in the sunrise
So baby step and you can get Anything that isn't yet Sold or not for sale By the indian down the trail
'cause give and take and love and hate up around and all around he can help me be that's what you promisted me
but now the same thing's happened to me oh my god how could you let them I was your alone for so long
So tell the truth or soul will knock you to the ground in the moment that you take your eye off the ball la la la la
the final page just got swept away so now it's time we played in open fields and alleyways