In the land, all the people bawling Through the land all the people crawling There’s a way, there’s a code that’s calling I will show them the way to walking Ist dist mein heart mein mind? See the children, i hate their faces Memory…

Remember the cul-de-sac nights cold beer, a cigarette to share the creak of our old porch swing smoke curled like chinese dragons in the air Chorus The porch light flickers, But it’s not lit for me anymore. I know there’s nothing waiting…

I woke up alone inside some room I’d never seen before I slipped out in cold and rain crossed Merrimon a bit deranged And I could see myself reflected in the convex mirror glass And I could see myself in astral planes above the mountain pass…

This track started sounding very rural so I added some acoustic slide-guitar that turned out quite nice, with lyrics about being in the area I grew up in again.

Channeling my inner Rod Temperton I came up with a track and then thought it might be a good idea to try out some headvoice singing, then I came up with a Michael Jackson-inspired lyric about the dangers of trying to become something you're not…

Snowflakes falling, soft as candlelight Silver tinsel sparkles every memory tonight There’s a record on the player, fire crackling warm and low And I’m back to when I held you, underneath the mistletoe City streets are shining, silver…

She’s on a cloud But after a while goes Wouldn’t it be so cool? To spend some life with the fools? Golden hair Bouncing from here to there And turning up everywhere Talaya A pretty lady who will kill you with a sword Oh no Oh no…

An old fashioned protest song. Imagine it's the sixties, and CSNY, Buffalo Springfield and Creedence were everywhere on the radio. I used a website called Audimee to generate the call and response. Everything else is me. Same Song, Different…