Archive for song

Trumpster Fire – AMM Rap

Posted in Poems, Rhymes, Riddles, Song Lyrics & Analysis, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on February 4, 2020 by Drogo

written by AMM for their Album ‘Trouble Fer Trumpets’

Trumpster Fire – rap

Welcome to the Land of Trump

Ronald MacDonald took a dump

Joker is wild, a petulant child

Racists want poor against poor,

Idiots ferget we done did that before!

Fighting the rich will be the next war!

Trouble for Trumpets, Grumbling grumpets

Gummi Bears writing in blackberry ink,

In the Land of Trump we all stink.

*

AMMAppalatian Mountain Malitia trip-hop rap band

Clouds Are Real

Posted in POB Audio, Poems, Poems, Rhymes, Riddles, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 29, 2019 by Drogo

mega cloud 2bmega cloud 1cmega cloud 1a

We swim in oceans of emotions, and we sail in relation-ships;

no more voting for corporate pricks;

we think and feel, and vote for those with appeal;

because clouds are real, clouds are real, yeah clouds are real.

*

[ Audio recording of poem sung as a folk song ]

 

 

*

Space Drogo – lyrics

Posted in Memorials / Obituaries / Epitaphs, Poems, Poems, Rhymes, Riddles, Song Lyrics & Analysis, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on August 30, 2019 by Drogo

Space Drogo, always doing things with space!

Space Drogo, out to save the human race!

Space Drogo, the great king of the Appalacia,

Space Drogo, you betcha – he’s here to save ya! Space Drogo!

Always on a mission, space Drogo, flying in good condition!

Space Drogo, now you now his name!

Space Drogo, life will never be the same!

SPACE DROGO….. SPACE DROGO!!!!

– Lyrics by Andy Sweeney 2019

Song of the Piper

Posted in Poems, Rhymes, Riddles, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on February 5, 2016 by Drogo

There is a little bird behind my house

whose first song speaks of the start of day ;

He heralds his voice like a piper’s tune

and very soon the others follow.

Then when dusk comes on and the day is done

I hear his melody once again

As he ushers out yet another day

and tells us all it is time for bed.

I may not sleep once his tune is sung

For unlike him I am restless ;

Still his song lingers on in my heart,

in my dreams,

‘Til I hear him again in the dawn.

  • Christine S. M.

Hey You Guys – Green Rap

Posted in POB Audio, Poems, Rhymes, Riddles, Song Lyrics & Analysis with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 6, 2014 by Drogo

Hey You Guys (Green Rap) – AMM SCOD concept by Drogo, lyrics by Codiak, rapped by Codiak

HEY YOU GUYS

People please wake up, our planet we are killin’;

Polluting all our resources, nothing left for the children.

Please think of the native americans before us.

Show respect for the mountains, open plains, and the forests.

Man-kind extinction, that’s what we are facing.

We maintain our cell phones, but mother earth we are defacing.

There is no way to deny it, there are changes in our climate.

Warfare and shrapnel, we care more about gain capital,

than the reservation (resurrection) of our fragile planet.

(Drogo, they don’t hear me man! Wake em up!)

HEY YOU GUYS

Man-made chemicals, factories, vehicles; form death called smog.

Best believe we are breathing it all.

Children born with disabilities due to radiation in facilities.

Poisoned waters, West Virginia took it personal, I’m from there.

Nuclear bomb testing, gunned down while protesting.

This ignorance is persistent, mother earth needs our assistance.

Can’t stand by idly, there’s a fight brewing inside of me.

Elephants and rhinos getting murdered for their ivory.

Families misplaced, industries they replace THEM;

It’s all about the money, what about THEM?

Pipeline running through the MOUNTAINS.

Gator belts and shark skins.

Love comes from the heart AND soul.

Our young ones gotta know,

tickin’ time bomb, and the world about to blow….

world about to blow….

not a word about the blow….

word about the blow…

0707131622b

SCOD “Dark Anthem”

Posted in Pagan, Poems, Rhymes, Riddles with tags , , , on October 9, 2011 by Drogo

Many, many years ago on the Eastern shore;
Faeries did gather secretly,

beyond the guard-inn door.

This place they’ve chosen right,
To build their Medieval site;

And make the Music sigh again,

Deep into the night!

Congregation rises, darkness ’round the bend;
Evil, lust and hatred,

Roots we can amend!

The priestess stands before us,

Tells us when and where to go;
Worship to the ancient gods,

Each and every day!

By the hand of Oberon, darkness in the deep
Know the good and evil things we do,

The secrets that we keep.

SCOD
will be the sacrifice,
SCOD, you know the time is right!
SCOD
will find you, can’t run very far
Evil that’s inside you,
We know just who you are!

No use in speaking out against the things we do;
While the pawns of dirth they sleep, haven’t any clue.
Now the story starts again, no matter what the cost,
SCOD begins anew, saving souls that once were lost!

SCOD

 

* (Based on “Metal Church” by Metal
Church)

Are You Going to Harpers Faerie?

Posted in Poems, Rhymes, Riddles with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 11, 2011 by Drogo

(Recited to the tune of Scarborough Fair)

 

Are you going to Harpers Faerie?

Pep-per-mint, Lemon, and Bee-Balm.

Remember me as one of the Faerie.

Herbs on the hill, spirits to calm.

 

 

Have them make me some peppermint tea.

Pep-per-mint, Lemon, and Bee-Balm.

With rain-water and local honey.

When I die, my soul it will calm.

 

 

Faerie dust shall be spread on high-land.

Pep-per-mint, Lemon, and Bee-Balm.

Tell them this must be done by their hand.

When I die, my soul it will calm.

 

 

Plow the land with the horns of a stag.

Pep-per-mint, Lemon, and Bee Balm.

Then sow some seeds while smoking a fag.

When I die, my soul it will calm.

 

 

Harvested with gauntlets of leather.

Pep-per-mint, Lemon, and Bee-Balm.

Reap it up in a bunch of heather.

When I die, my soul it will calm.

 

 

Tell them to dry it in an old Oak tree.

Pep-per-mint, Lemon, and Bee-Balm.

Gather with a basket of mulberry.

When I die, my soul it will calm.

 

 

Have them steep it in yonder cistern.

Pep-per-mint, Lemon, and Bee-Balm.

Make sure to add, some Bakerton Cat-Nip.

When I die, my soul it will calm.

 

 

When thou has finished thy task.

Pep-per-mint, Lemon, and Bee Balm.

Come to me, a favor to ask.

* When I die, my soul will be calm.

Harpers Ferry Legacy

Posted in Arts (Design & Performance), Cooperatives / Communities / Networks / Travels, Memorials / Obituaries / Epitaphs with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 31, 2011 by Drogo

Harpers Ferry Legacy


Tribute to Harpers Ferry

Mayor Stowell

DJ Instant Remedy

C64 “Warriors”

Remix

12 Days of Halloween

Posted in Arts (Design & Performance), Song Lyrics & Analysis with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2010 by Drogo

The 12 Days of Halloween

On the first day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
An owl in a rotten oak tree

On the second day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the third day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the fourth day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the fifth day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Five scary spooks!
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the sixth day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Six goblins gobbling
Five scary spooks!
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the seventh day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Seven pumpkins glowing
Six goblins gobbling
Five scary spooks!
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the eighth day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Eight monsters shrieking
Seven pumpkins glowing
Six goblins gobbling
Five scary spooks!
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the ninth day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Nine ghosts a-booing
Eight monsters shrieking
Seven pumpkins glowing
Six goblins gobbling
Five scary spooks!
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the tenth day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Ten ghouls a-groaning
Nine ghosts a-booing
Eight monsters shrieking
Seven pumpkins glowing
Six goblins gobbling
Five scary spooks!
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the eleventh day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Eleven casks a-leaning
Ten ghouls a-groaning
Nine ghosts a-booing
Eight monsters shrieking
Seven pumpkins glowing
Six goblins gobbling
Five scary spooks!
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

On the twelfth day of Hallowe’en
My true love gave to me
Twelve bats a-flying
Eleven casks a-leaning
Ten ghouls a-groaning
Nine ghosts a-booing
Eight monsters shrieking
Seven pumpkins glowing
Six goblins gobbling
Five scary spooks!
Four skeletons
Three black cats
Two trick or treaters
And an owl in a rotten oak tree

Mad Magazine’s Violent Mother Goose

Posted in Poems, Rhymes, Riddles, Short Faerie's Tails, Song Lyrics & Analysis with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2010 by Drogo

from Mad Magazine’s “Violent Mother Goose”

*

THIS IS THE FILM THAT JACK MADE

 

This is the girl who’s blown away

Whose in the film that Jack made

 

This is the creep who stalks his prey

Who blasts the girl whose blown away

Who’s in the film that Jack made

 

This is the ax that splits the head

That’s swung by the creep who stalks his prey

Who blasts the girl whose blown away

Who’s in the film that Jack made

 

This is dude who winds up dead

From getting the ax that splits the head

That’s swung by the creep who stalks his prey

Who blasts the girl whose blown away

Who’s in the film that Jack made

 

This is the Salesman from Omaha

Who calls on the dude who winds up dead

From getting the ax that splits the head

That’s swung by the creep who stalks his prey

Who blasts the girl whose blown away

Who’s in the film that Jack made

 

This is the handy electric saw

That slices the Salesman from Omaha

Who calls on the dude who winds up dead

From getting the ax that splits the head

That’s swung by the creep who stalks his prey

Who blasts the girl whose blown away

Who’s in the film that Jack made

 

This is the carnage of blood and gore

That’s made by the handy electric saw

That slices the Salesman from Omaha

Who calls on the dude who winds up dead

From getting the ax that splits the head

That’s swung by the creep who stalks his prey

Who blasts the girl whose blown away

Who’s in the film that Jack made

 

These are the profits of bucks galore

That come from the carnage of blood and gore

That’s made by the handy electric saw

That slices the Salesman from Omaha

Who calls on the dude who winds up dead

From getting the ax that splits the head

That’s swung by the creep who stalks his prey

Who blasts the girl whose blown away

Who’s in the film that Jack made

*

On the Way to Saint Ives

As I was going to Saint Ives,

I met a man with seven knives

49 hand grenades,

343 razor blades,

2,401 axes…

Axes, blades, grenades, and knives;

How many different ways to die?

*

Jack Sprat

Jack Sprat can swing his bat

his wife can spray her mace;

he’ll smack her hard

when she’s off-guard;

she’ll spritz him in the face.

Jack Sprat is knocked out flat,

his wife the worst of sights,

though bitter foes

at least it shows

they’re into equal rights.

*

 

 

The House That Jack Built

Posted in Song Lyrics & Analysis with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2010 by Drogo

The Legacy of Jack the Carpenter

Jack may not have been an architect, but it is usually assumed that he was the farmer/carpenter that built the ‘house’ (which is clearly a barn), rather than just the owner that did not even help during construction. If Jack was just the owner, it most likely would be “The House That Jack Owned”, or “The Home of Jack”, or “Jack’s House”. Also if Jack was the carpenter who built the barn on a farm, it was likely that he was also a farmer; as building timber frame structures is part of the agrarian legacy.

Regardless there is an architecture to the story, as it builds upon itself. Each verse becomes larger than the previous, as it includes all lines that were established prior. This narrative story type is called cumulative chain.

Even though it is a rhyme usually spoken, it is also listed as a folk song (Roud Index). There are Jewish and Arabic medieval examples, that predate nursery rhymes. Other popular cumulative chain songs to build upon previous lines are: “There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly” and “The Twelve Days of Christmas“.

THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT

Original with Jack as carpenter-farmer

Mother Goose nursery rhyme from the 1500-1600s

Classified as an Aarne-Thompson cumulative chain tale

*

This is the house that Jack built.

This is the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer Jack sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

*

Hawkwind “Master Of The Universe”

Posted in Song Lyrics & Analysis with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 8, 2010 by Drogo

Song Title:  Master Of The Universe
Albums:  Masters of the Universe 1971-1977, In Search Of Space, Space Ritual, Live Chronicles, Best of Hawkwind
Written by: Brock & Turner 1970s

*

MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE

(howling riffs, rhythmic power chords)

>
I am the center of this Universe.
The wind of time is blowing through me
And it’s all moving relative to me,

It’s all a figment of my mind
In a world that I’ve designed
I’m charged with cosmic energy
Has the world gone mad or is it me?

~

I am the creator of this Universe.
And all that is was meant to be
So that we might learn to see
This foolishness that lives in us

And stupidity that we must suss
How to banish from our minds
If you call this living I must be blind.

*

Musical Blades

Posted in Arts (Design & Performance) with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 28, 2009 by coffeedude65

After watching the GO GREEN Promontage 03 video on Youtube, with the music from Cruachan, I must confess I have not been familiar with this wonderful band.  I have looked into their music and I am hooked.  So I thought I would share a probably less known, and more local band that I truly enjoy.  I wish I could see them more often than just waiting for the Ren Faire season, but they are named “The Musical Blades”.  They are far different than Cruachan and I am not sure why I connected the two in my mind, although they both move me far more than any contemporary music does these days.

The Musical blades are a pirate act that performs regularly at the Faires in the Midwest, I am not sure their entire schedule (it is available on their website http://www.musicalblades.com/ ) but I believe they have worked Faires throughout several states in the Midwest.  Some of my old vids have their music as backing, and if I can find the footage on my PC, I have some wonderful performances by them.  They truly enjoy what they are doing and they love to involve the crowd in their often ribald songs.

Some of my best Faire memories of the last couple of years, is sitting in a little pub or pavilion with a full mug of ale, singing and stomping my feet with a mighty “HUZZZAHHH”.

“When I die, I want to go to pirate heaven………..”