hand in hand

‘Before the Light Went Out’

Mother Earth is now a victim
She’s not a magnet any more
We’ve stripped her of her blue, green cloak
Looked the other way as her children were washed up on the shore

“Let’s give her a cloak of plastic
That’ll warm her up real good
Tell you what? Let’s make all things out of plastic
Let’s set fire to the forests, burn that stack of wood”

Mother Earth never had a voice
Never need one when we walked hand in hand
That was before the swarm turned up
The mob of humans who took command

I’m thinking this backing track, ‘Emotional Groove – A Minor works with the words. It’s a little dark; a little laid back. Hope you enjoy;

Emotional Grove is from my Guitar Jam album. If you want to find out more re this or any of my other work it accessible below;

Copyright © 2019 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.


ven (2)Source: Chicago Tribune

‘Barbed wire used properly can be a beautiful sight’, so said the man who ought to know better. Really?  It might be when used as an art-form but not in the context you used it, mate.

Whatever, those cruel words got me thinking; got me composing a new piece for the new album. It’s an ambient instrumental reflecting the slow, hopeful journey toward what desperate migrants see as a kind of paradise, as well as what will probably be a tragic end to their exodus in the not too distant future. All they’ll find at the end of their rainbow is the disappointment of ‘Hotel Barbed Wire’ (…Such a lovely place, Such a lovely face* – not) and armed soldiers guarding the borderline blocking their way.

In writing this number I’ve purposely not let it reveal any emotion of anger. I’m not making any judgments in composing this piece. I simply want it to map out their progress across foreign lands ending in a refugee ‘crisis moment’ that needn’t happen but likely will. I hope I’m proved wrong. Anyhow, its entitled, ‘Barbed Wire’.  Music to lie back and get the vibe? I hope so;

I mentioned in my previous blog post that I’d made it into the Top 20 on ReverbNation’s UK chart. As of now I can report that Zoolon sits at No. 5 in that UK chart, plus making a significant dent in the top 100 Global chart. WP support has played a big part in this. Thank you. I even treated myself to a new guitar, a Fender Vintage Blonde American Special Telecaster to celebrate this and a few other things that have gone my way lately. My Vintage Blonde shared my bed last night. She struck a chord. True‘ ish. I’m thinking it might be time to shift some of my other guitars. Maybe, maybe not.


My current albums available on Bandcamp;

*Apart from the lyric sample from The Eagles, Copyright © 2018 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.



CUSHION4‘To the dark side of this mirror’ by Zoolon

The bus broke down halfway up the mountainside. The driver got the bonnet open. Steam came out. Even though he had a box of spanners he told us there was nothing he could do. He didn’t know when help would come because his mobile couldn’t get a signal.

Sat on the back seat of the bus alone was a mother feeding her baby. The big-headed bloke in the suit carrying a briefcase told her doing it in public was disgusting, just before he and his underlings, also in suits carrying briefcases, left the bus to do a bit of motivational team building at the top of the mountain.

After that the bloke with the posh voice in a fluorescent padded waterproof jacket with a hood, told the mum feeding the baby that she looked beautiful. Once he’d said that he and his mates, also in fluorescent padded waterproof jackets with hoods left the bus. I heard one of them say they had to leave as they were chasing avalanches.

That left just me, the bus driver with the box of spanners and a blind bloke who’d lost his walking stick because he couldn’t see where he left it. The three of us decided to stay with the mother feeding her baby because it didn’t seem right leaving her alone. She never told me her name but the baby was called Moonbeam.

After a long wait, a man dressed as a woman, leading a donkey knocked on the bus window to attract my attention. He said I could have the donkey as he was worried about keeping it any longer. I asked him why he was worried about keeping a donkey. He answered that it was because of the full moon tonight. Told me he turned into a werewolf on full moon’s and it was a certainty that if he kept his donkey he’d end up eating it raw come midnight. The donkey was called Ant.

He seemed pleased when I said I’d take Ant off his hands so that the mother still feeding her baby could sit on its back and me, the driver and the blindman could walk her back down the hill to somewhere safe. The werewolf, at the moment just a man dressed as a woman, was good with that.

Just before we said our goodbyes I told him that if he got peckish later on there was a big-headed bloke and his mates somewhere near the top of the mountain. He thanked me.

We got the mother, still feeding her baby, back home safe. She invited us in for a cup of tea. I had tap water as I don’t drink tea.

Moonbeam’s mum, still feeding baby Moonbeam, asked me if she was allowed to tell her own mum, her granddad and the lady who lived next door, that she’d been rescued from halfway up the mountain rather than say she’d just had a donkey ride home. I said if she thought about it she had been rescued. She said, “Cool.” I told her Moonbeam could keep Ant, but she might want to give him a more credible name. She said, “Neat.”

I meant to tell her she was beautiful like the bloke with the posh voice in a fluorescent padded waterproof jacket with a hood had but I forgot.

The next day I wrote her this song.

Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.


DSC01643 (2)‘Endangered Species’ by Zoolon

I guess, one way or another all living things are an endangered species. If it’s not mankind interfering with the environment that’s wiping life out, it’s mankind having a pathetic pop at mankind.  Some seem to get off on it. Here’s a few words regarding the latter from a piece I’ve called ‘Salutes from The Shed’;

Glaze over long words for small occasions

Self-proclaimed dwarf god of pen and ink

Innuendos, insults thrown from a cowardly safe distance

You’re not even worth the #missinglink

witchcraft‘The Witchcraft of Shadows’ by Zoolon

That’s sorted ‘the bad and the sad’ stuff, now for ‘the beautiful’. These words are about an artist who committed suicide aged 22 in the winter of 1981. I owe thanks to another blogger who got me into this artist’s work and now I’m hooked. This is a much edited version from where I started. I’ll probably edit again and again as I’m turning it into a song reflecting, but not charting, her life.


Capturing unholy ghosts

Dark side of a mirror chasing dreams

Her face hid behind the curtain

Falling apart at the seams


“Am I in the picture?

Am I getting in or out of it?”

Francesca asked the strangest questions

She never could commit


Blurred images in a blurred life

Someway, somehow, somewhere

On the East Side on a winter’s day

She went walking in thin air

Such a tragic shame that she topped herself. Not everyone is beautiful as well as talented. She was one of the lucky ones in that regard. This girl had amazing photographic talent. The journals she kept are full of addictive random and surreal words. Class act. It’s a massive shame great artists across all genres seem to chase self-destruction. Here’s her self-portrait. Her name was Francesca Woodman. I’ll post her song very soon.


For now, maybe my song ‘Rebirth’ has found a home at last. Maybe it does her justice, even if it’s just a bit. I hope so.

Apart from the Francesca self-portrait, Copyright ©2015 music; 2018 lyric Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.


george folkestone (2)

(Above, me having a think about lost rainbows, all the time taking care not to fall off the edge of the cliff into a watery grave)


On the day the Ice Caps melted

The sun swallowed a swollen sea

No rain from Africa to Eurasia

No springtime blossom on the Cherry Tree


The wheat, the maize, the grains dried and died

No more the rainforest of the Amazon

The last human left alive looks up

Says, ‘Where have all the rainbows gone?’


My song is not a warning

Believe it, it’s far too late

Mankind’s ways of greed and war

Has defined Mankind’s death wish fate


Rainbow’s End will stay a secret

For forever and a day

“Where have all the rainbows gone?”

The last thing the last human will get to say


Time for something a little brighter; something with ‘magic’ in it – my song ‘Rexie Believes in Magic’. I hope you like it;


The ‘Dream Rescuer’ album from which this song comes from is available for download at https://zoolon.bandcamp.com/

Next the genius that is Agnes Obel with her song ‘Riverside’.  The mood of the piano is a work of art in itself;

Lyric & ‘Rexie’ song – Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.