Since others have posted songs to this thread, I thought I’d post one of mine. It’s no doubt over-produced and perhaps a tad pretentious, but I like it, and I hope you will too. All the instruments and vocals are mine. The female accompaniment was accomplished via the gender bending capabilities of my Calvinova. Forgive my crappy voice. It's the only one I have.
The MP3 can be heard
here. (You may have to crank your speakers up.)
Blinders
Words & Music by W.T. Sharpe
Walking down the street, a man whose feet never touch the ground.
Has his own little space, a fascinating place only he has found.
It's a great escape for a naked ape whenever he feels down.
When he opens his eyes inside he cries. Can't hang around.
Chorus:
...Living with blinders on — Living with blinders on, it's a
...Spellbinders' con, when they're Living with blinders on.
Sitting in her house, a timid little mouse, shades pulled down.
A lady blocks the light, shuts out all sight, doesn't want a sound.
With her hands in the air, her desperate prayer echoes through the town.
Through no one hears, yet to her fears she feels less bound.
Repeat chorus
......We hear no, see no, speak no evil, reek no evil we imagine for
......our minds are mostly closed, but don't you know that if you seek
......a better place you've got to face the human race with eyes that
......see things as they be, not as they're posed.
............. at least I think so.
People stare with eyes unexercised, shutting out tomorrow.
Fearful minds decline becoming wise, increasing sorrow.
Can we live a life eyes open wide? Seeing all things clearly?
If we put mythology aside, would we all pay dearly?
Repeat chorus (2 times)
From Ecclesiastes chapter 1:
Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. What profit hath man of all his labour wherein he laboureth under the sun? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; and the earth abideth for ever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he ariseth. The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it turneth about continually in its circuit, and the wind returneth again to its circuits. All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full; unto the place whither the rivers go, thither they go again. All things toil to weariness....