I am very sorry to hear about Brook.

Maybe he needed a better PR firm? Perhaps he should have considered late night info-mercials? Excellent concept!

Very Pretty story telling. I've been to Deadwood. What a place to spend eternity.

Excellent!

Another very clever one!

This one is one of my favourites of your tracks. The chorus is especially poignant.

I love this! The music is really driving!

You performed this so well. A very interesting story, perfectly done. Good luck, "Emily". Yeah, nice chord!

I love the way you have made this true story into a song. Straight to the point lyrics with tremendous backing vocals. It's a very strong and determined sounding track.

Oh JM, it is very loud! Come on, don't be like that, you can think of something.

Wow, JM! Grrreat harmonies, and a master class in lyrics.

nice job... its a snapshot in a snapshot.

So in 1951 you lived in the desert just around the corner from where I grew up , except I wasn't there until 1953 at the ripe and smelly age of 1.I think I was considering buying a house out in the same patch of desert you grew up in. Your Dad might of known a Bob Dollins, he worked at Northrop for a short while . What year did you depart?

These songs with the choir are cool. Are these friends , sounds like you got a regular choir doing back up

Small world indeed. In 1953 I was 1 and we lived on the base. In old pics the housing were those Quansot Huts. Hell, if you lived out there at 8 years no wonder you got that dreamy like recollection. It be like living on the Moon, had barren can it get, and the bright sun beating down cooking that desert, sonic booms rattleing windows. I know, I don't know when they stop doing it but I remember as far back as 1964 of our classrooms windows rattling and that 's in Palmdale. They test artilliary as well out at EAB. Fortunately I was only 1 year old back then and i was shielded from the sun by my moma's breast and taken out there before I could develope a memory.Funny thing in early '54 my folks moved just off the south end of 15th. I still live close to it. There is no hope for Peace on Earth as long as militaries stand armed and ready.

You captured the mood! Good integration of song voice and guitar. It was warm & tender despite the hard cold reality the song spoke of. Imaginitive lyrics that mixed well with the sweet simplicity of the music.

Another Palmdale resident. The horny toads you don't see to much anymore but he tumbleweeds and the wind are still here so kite flying is still around. Hey ,you forgot the rattlesnakes. I don't remember it being so dreamy though. Your song is different and somewhat interesting but I wouldn't vote for it to be the official Palmdale song. I arrived in Palmdale in 1953, maybe that's what it is.

Nice percussion. Strong message!

Most excellent lyrics! I admire those who will stand up and be counted! Great song!

LOL as they say

Kat Angel PRICELESS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Love the song, love you singing it just to me (in my imagination)

Bruce Balmer Beautiful.

Shirley Crawford Hello…old friend. This one hits me in the heart. When we moved here to NM back in June… we left behind in the house, our old couch that we’d used for 22 years. It had been my parents before that. It was probably close to 40 yrs old. And yes, it made into a bed.

Candy Davis Beautiful, poignant memory song. I could just picture that old couch and what it meant to you.

Perrin Gardner Beautiful song, James Michael Taylor!

Carolyn Wade Sending love ❤️. Love it and remember the memories of us. Button your shirt.(Gladys Burcham).

Becky Byrd Spicer Wiping a tear for all the relics I have kept, and those discarded.

Scarlett Maneikis So beautiful, n heart felt. I love it.

Doreen Peri Wonderful. Thank you for sharing this!

Daniel Payne This one hits. Heavy reflections on all the stuff that served me faithfully, and all the leaving was my doing. To reward all that loyalty, I do to my stuff what I always hate other people to do to me.

...as Buddy holly said, "RAVE ON!"

...really gets the feeling of that path!

I don't understand being criticized for a track being TOO LOUD. Doesn't everybody have a "volume" knob?

That is fun...

How old is that song? Was rhatvwritten from a personal stance if I may? LeAnna LeAnna M Christian Overall good song; performance and production JMT - I wrote/recorded this in 2011. Just looking at the poor man's perspective, (which I have knowledge of) noticing no matter how much he prays he's still poor. "Must be the wrong prayer."

How old is that song? Was rhatvwritten from a personal stance if I may? LeAnna LeAnna M Christian Overall good song; performance and production

Rosemarie Kempton wrote: Just finished listening to your memories of your horse Babe. Your words painted such a vivid portrait of your night rides that I felt like I was riding Babe, too. Beautifully done!

The heart can hold a lot of things: the sunshine and the flowers The chill that springs the falling leaves. Winter's darkest hours The rains that quench the thirsty earth. The buds that sprout and bloom Sometimes it tries to hold too much and there isn't enough room Sometimes it tries to hold too much The heart can hold a multitude. Family and Friends. There are things that life will give and things it only lends A wife becomes a mother, a son becomes a man There are things the heart can't hold And still it thinks it can There are things the heart can't hold The holdings of the bank are cold, but holding hands are warm The holdings of the mind are thoughts that in the moment form The hands that hold the tools that build the brushes for our art None are as enduring as the holdings of the heart The holdings of the heart are self-renewing On holdings of the heart, high interest, paid Holdings sometimes best be liquidated, yet we stay The heart can hold the music. The voices of the Time. The heart collects the little things. The pennies and the dimes The heart can try to measure the stature of a dream Pounding like the waters on the stones that block the streams Pounding like the waters The holdings of the bank are cold, but holding hands are warm The holdings of the mind are thoughts that in the moment form The hands that hold the tools that build the brushes for our art None are as enduring as the holdings of the heart None are self-renewing like the holdings of the heart

Well, Rosie's like a lot of folks She's just trying to stay afloat But she's got a broken boat She's a going down And Rosie's got her problems, friends She just tries to do her best Who's gonna do the rest She's a going down If god had longer arms, you know He'd reach on down to Rosie Reach on down to Rosie Reach on down (2) Etc...

This came out of a story in the Star Telegram about a guy that lived under one of the bridges near Trinity Park. I was angry at a reporter who did a story about him and it got him removed.