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Found 8 results

  1. Life Ain't For Sissies

    This was a very quick write, so there should be flaws aplenty. If not, well, either y'all ain't trying orI ought to have way more money that I do. © Ben Burton 4/16/2017 It don't count for nothing if you risk your life for something that ain't worth dying for Though they still hand out medals that's for settling accounts with those left crying, evermore You can't lend protection to a people who're projecting you're their lifelong enemy Never turn a profit and there's just no way to solve it after fourteen centuries This life ain't made for sissies Or socialist decrees This life ain't made for sissies But it's easier if you're free Marching in a protest to get paid is half as grotesque as a shooter in a school Closing off your mind to anyone not on your side is done by sleepwalking fools When you wear your pants below your ass you won't advance beyond the minimum wage If you toe the line but you still find yourself behind, if you give up, you're to blame This life ain't made for sissies Or socialist decrees This life ain't made for sissies But it's easier if you're free We can't save the world from all its woes We can't force our values down their throats We can only hope and pray and vote Tryin' to delay the day, humanity implodes repeat chorus
  2. When It Matters

    WHEN IT MATTERS He's a hard futhermucker and you know it He's seen things that your nightmares can't know He's killed folks he can't see, with a robot And it's mangled and soured his soul He's a tough son-of-a-bitch, can't you see it? His eyes like two holes in a grave They tore out his soul in the dessert And there's nothing left in him to save Oh his story, it seems Is more nightmare than dream There is no in between When it matters. Oh, don't look in his eyes 'Cause he's lost all of his lies When the war left him empty and shattered. He was once just a john, just another Of the day to day people you know He had a job and a girl and a future, There were places he wanted to go How he tries to forget the explosion All the mangled and muddy remains Now he's a monster crammed into a matchbox Just waiting to burst into flames His sad interlude Is both tragic and true No-one knows what they'll do When it matters Whatever he'll choose He's put fire to the fuse It's himself that he'll lose When it scatters He's a stiff drink away from oblivion He tries hard not to care any more It's his mind that's lost reason for living Not the body sent home from the war All that killing and dying - so pointless They're still killing and dying today The lfe that he leads is so hopeless And the nightmares will not go away. Well, his sad tale of woe - Is that just how it goes? Will we pull him back in off the ledges? Will we welcome him in, Give back his life again Or just leave him to live on the edges?
  3. This Is War

    Hi Guys! (& Gals) Here's one I've been trying to work on for a few weeks, but my pesky customers keep tugging and pulling at my ever shrinking allotment of creative time. There's no underlying evil message here, it just reflects current events, and will hopefully resonate well even when times are a little more sane. Thanks a bunch for listening! There's plenty of boo-boos in this one, but from a structure standpoint, it's about how I invisioned it. If you have any thoughts or suggestions, I'm all ears! Take care... Oh, I'd like to thank the grandmaster (Dave - HoboSage) of weird chords for pointing me to these chords, thanks dude! Rick https://soundcloud.com/rick-glynn/this-is-war "This is War" Lyrics & Music by Rick Glynn All Rights Reserved - 2014 A careful selection of the words you use avoid the inspection of the things you do You can't put this thing on me it's not my fault you didn't see That this is war this is war you waited too long to open your eyes you tried to hold on to my clever disguise But then I broke all of my promises left you counting all my lies and this is war this is war Just wait til' you find out how bad it can be you thought you knew evil but now you've got me A leader draped in bad religion the chains on you, and I'm the key And this is war this is war This is war this is war A careful selection of the words you use avoid the inspection of the things you do You can't put this thing on me it's not my fault you didn't see That this is war this is war ...weird marching noises
  4. Love Is A War - Uplift (Edited)

    Still unfinished but edited please let me know what you think ! Dan - Into - Verse 1- Verse 3 - verse - 5 Brad - Verse 2 - Verse 4 - Verse 6
  5. Upon the plain of Lebelketh The Mountain Army met The Freedmen’s Corps: The Corpsmen were not slaves But hadn’t passed to freedom’s light They passed from slavery to greater dark The Freedmen earned through murder The unbinding of their chains Through bowing at Consumption’s altar They became elite of Uthmar’s killing fiends. Mardel led the army of the mountain folk. He had avenged his mother-slave By slaying Uthmar’s raping priest He ran into the north, evading King Aghoza’s legion-bears. He lived apart, a woodland-haunting Renegade, a running slave, That didn’t know a free man’s ways— Alone for many, many days Until a sickness brought him down. He fell; a maiden found him, In the woods around a mountain town. The mountain people nursed him well, And he was strong the day the reavers came, A violent band that bore the maiden to the ground, Their pleasure interrupted by the sound, Of Mardel, sword in hand and challenging. He killed a dozen, wounded three, Before he fell awash in blood. The nightfall would have seen him dead, If Diurleva hadn’t come to tend him. That ancient healer told Mardel to stay. If not he would have run away, To spare the town the vengeance that would come. Too late, the healer said, the time had now arrived, For Mountain people to arise with sword in hand, And drive oppressing reavers from the land. The Mountain Army then was born, Led by the slave that killed Gad-Agba’s highest priest and got away. More came to be his soldiers, every day. In every village, every town were those who’d seen Beloved blood soaked into mountain soil. They brought Mardel their broken hearts to be remade, Upon the field of battle, with the blade. Gad-Agba knew; Aghoza heard. The King swore oaths upon Consumption’s Lord: To wipe the Mountain Army from the Earth. And marching to the north he sent the Freedmen’s Corps, Men immersed in murder and in evil lore, Men who fought with axes and the Demon’s claw. The rumor of their coming was enough, For folk to slay themselves in fear and awe. But the Mountain Army didn’t quail. As men and women, free, they chose to face, The power conjured up by sacrifice To demons in Gad-Agba’s tower. And if their freedom brought a consequence of death, Still they marched upon the plain of Lebelketh. The Mountain Army thought they marched alone, Against an army of the cruel in numbers greater than their own. But Wind, the Rebel God, loved courage in the human heart. Among Wind’s favorites long had been Mardel. Against the force of the Destroyer, Wind now stood as well. Few were the bows; none were the horse. Blows traded face to face would be the battle’s course. So it began: a murmured crash Was heard on distant hills as armor bashed With club and blade. The first installment Of a butcher’s bill was paid. At first the warriors were merely brave, or cruel. On either side they fought and died as humans do; But then began the supernatural duel. The wizards of the Freedmen’s corps, Began the chants that open doors, Unleashing a demonic force, That changes men to killing beasts, Untiring gluttons in a bloody feast, Their faces black with bulging veins of raging blood, Their minds submerged in floods of lust and hate. The Freedmen troops passed from the mortal state, To strength of violence far beyond the human frame. To stand against them was beyond the sane. But Wind had brought a magic, too. His whispering raised folk to heights, Of courage, love and sacrifice. To Mountain troops Wind brought the Passion of the Blade, The kunastir, to ancient tongues: A kind of gentle rage; the anger of a lioness defending cubs, The force behind the sacrifice of love, And so they did not reel away, The Army stood, The kunastir their only palisade. More chanting then, in desperate note, For those who serve Gad-Agba know, The Wind to be their enemy, and strong; The Freedmen saw the battle could go wrong. They took a chance, unleashing then A power that they knew, Could easily destroy them too. Screaming birds of black and red, Appeared to spiral in the air Above the field; they were not real, Not creatures born of egg and nest. But heralds of a holocaust. Where even mountains might be rent. Not the Children; not the kin. The Demon Lord himself: it would be Him. The Destroyer came to end the fight, and smite the Wind. And if he lingered, it would be the End. Those who fight for Wind may enter kunastir; But beyond that passion is another realm: The Oneness with the Wind in Battle, Or, the tirakel. The kunastir will fade, But from the tirakel is no return, So fiercely does the fighter’s passion burn. And it is not in every man or woman To unite with Wind; the human breath seeks to remain, A little wind in its own realm—the human frame. The tirakel must come to those a bit in love with death, Those who freely choose to pass through glory, to the end. And sadder still, it is the young, Who may believe a battle won, Is worth surrendering to death; they may be right, They may be wrong; but tales of youthful sacrifice, Will always make the saddest songs. To broken hearts, Wind whispered then: Just follow me, and all sad memory will end. The loves you lost beneath the knife Will join you in the afterlife. The broken hearts crossed over then, From kunastir to tirakel. Their swords were bright, their eyes ablaze, As they clove through the battle line. Before them, every wizard fell. The herald-birds dissolved, their magic failed, Powerless the Destroyer railed, His path into the world destroyed. The Demon Lord could not escape the Void. The Freedmen’s ranks fell back, amazed. Their Corps had never known defeat. Mardel’s fighters drove them in retreat, Pursuing them until each one was dead, Demonic bargains coming due at last, The Freedmen’s souls immersed in some eternal dread. In coming wars, in many fights, Mardel recalled the sacrifice, The awful way, The Mountain Army won the day, Because a few accepted death, Surrendering young lives, To Wind’s embrace at Lebelketh.
  6. This song is the outcome of a collaboration back in 2009 with Billy Simons, a very talented young lyricist from the U.S. Billy had asked whether I'd be interested to write the music for these lyrics he had just written and perform the song. I thought the lyric was extremely well written and ready for the music writer to take over, without having to make too many changes. I hope I have been able to do some justice to Billy's very evocative lyric. This song went on to be briefly #1 on Neil Young's site "Living with War" in Dec 2009 -Psyve http://soundcloud.com/psyve/living-in-a-postwar-dream LIVING IN A POSTWAR DREAM Lyrics: Billy Simons © 2009 Music and performance: © Cyrus Vesuvala 2009 Verse-1: I dreamt that dream again last night: The one in which I'm dead. The scene is grainy black and white But the blood is crimson red See a cardinal on that snow white beach On that cold and blustery day And I watch with trepidation As he turns and flies away Verse- 2: His red tail flutters in the wind As he races 'cross the sky And as the scene fades out to black I open up my eyes Within this strange reality Precursor to the screams That cardinal is always there Embedded in my dreams Chorus: Living in a postwar dream Where the fighting never ends More terrifying 'cos I've lost sight Of what I must defend Living in a postwar dream A lifetime on the mend A lifetime on the mend Verse- 3: The beachfront's now deserted Those soldiers, long since gone Their orders cancelled years ago But my battle rages on I can still hear that moaning It's a young boy face-down and He convulses as he's drowning In a pool of blood and sand Verse-4: So, everyday I agonize About the here and now Wondering how I'll set the stage To take my final bow It doesn't matter much to me When and where the curtain falls I've waited all these years to hear That final bugle call Bridge: So, yearning for tomorrow As today slips through my hands I'm trapped within this hour glass Half buried in the sands At the beaches here at Normandy Which never looked so grand... Oh, the beaches here at Normandy Are grand... The beaches here at Normandy Are grand...
  7. Which One (Placing Blame)

    Okay! Here's the finished product... (well... as finished as I personally can get it. sorry for the hiss in the background) So more about the song, I posted the draft version last night for some feedback.... here's what I changed, harmonies (added more and pitch corrected) key, tuned it up a hair I liked this key better, sped up the temp just a tad so it didn't drag on too much, but not so fast as to lose the haunting effect I really wanted, also, changed a couple small lyrics and that's about it. I wrote this song which came to me out of the blue, but the lyrics really hit home. With all that goes on in the world today and all that's gone on in the world for so many years, I am confused as to why history keeps repeating itself. That is sad to me, which is why I put more oomph into the second verse if you noticed. Would love your feedback. Wish I could have added another element, but when I tried to add percussion, it was too conflicting even on the same tempo, my machine isn't too advanced lol, so forgive the crappy quality, and I hope y'all enjoy the song! With love, Kymlee http://soundcloud.com/kymlee/which-one Which One (previously titled "Placing Blame") copyright Kymlee Kopera 2012 Ooo.... Ooo....Ooo... Ooo.... Ooo....Ooo... We're sleeping, enemy's closing in Our children weep for light. So softly, they're taking over and still we march, a mindless force... mindless force... Which one, which one, which one will take a stand? which one, which one will be a leader of man? how many battles, how many wars must we fight? until we've decided which one of us is right? or until none of us, until none of are left alive?! The years pass, picking up pieces we're remnant of a mighty whole revolution, we're taking over it's time to take back all control and make our presence known! Which one, which one, which one will take a stand? which one, which one will be a leader of man? how many battles, how many wars must we fight? until we've decided that none of us are right? or until none of us, until none of are left alive?! (repeat) until all of us, until all of us are sent to die... Ooo.... ooo.... ooo.....
  8. So I got my free trial of mixcraft today so I've been up playing around and boom, a song came out of NOWHERE. So here's my very first draft. It needs A LOT of work, I was hopefully going to finish it tommorrow. Things I want to work on, Chorus- needs more POWER in my voice, which I regularly have a problem with Harmonies- maybe more, and need to change a bit, I'm a bit pitchy tonight for some reason Levels- All need to be a tad higher I believe, so I'll be "perfecting" tommorrow 'Nunciation- Need to pronounce the words a little better so you can understand them without needing lyrics Any other tips or concerns, PLEASE have at it, I can use all the help I can get. I will post a revised version soon. Hope you all like it!!! With love, Kymlee http://soundcloud.com/kymlee/placingblame-draft Placing Blame copyright Kymlee Kopera 2012 Ooo.... Ooo....Ooo... Ooo.... Ooo....Ooo... We're sleeping, enemy's closing in Our children weep for light. So softly, they're taking over and still we march, a mindless force... mindless force... Which one, which one, which one will take a stand? which one, which one will be a leader of man? how many battles, how many wars must we fight? until we've decided which one of us is right? or until none of us, until none of are left alive?! The years pass, picking up pieces we're remnant of a mighty whole revolution, we're taking over it's time to take back all control our control.... Which one, which one, which one will take a stand? which one, which one will be a leader of man? how many battles, how many wars must we fight? until we've decided that none of us are right? or until none of us, until none of are left alive?! (repeat) until all of us, until all of us are sent to die... Ooo.... ooo.... ooo.....
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