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Solid Air

Solid Air

Call it jazz, experimental blues, or some other hybrid musical category. Or call it a subterranean sound that echoes through the hollows of a vacant soul. John Martyn’s arrangement masterfully captures familiar, yet distant elements imprinted on some forgotten region of the human genetic blueprint.

Fool On The Hill

Fool On The Hill

Day after day,
Alone on a hill,
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he’s just a fool,
And he never gives an answer,

Across the Universe

Across the Universe

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe

Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind
Possessing and caressing me