SINK OR SWIM; SWIM OR SINK

On the horizon just a ‘dot’. In an over full craft refugees risk their lives for a new homeland.
I hope they made it here. A pity I couldn’t get close-ups.


‘Rule Britannia is out of bounds, To my mother, my dog, and clowns’ – Bowie


In seven months their world blew up
In seven days it ends
In seven hours they’ll be nothing left
Not an enemy nor a friend


In seven minutes they’ll sink or swim
Will they live or will they die?
Sink or swim, swim or sink
Will today be their last goodbye?


Shaven heads, beer bellied, white skinned trash
All xenophobes make double sure
“They’ll get no welcome here today
Their skin don’t match our colour”


A sandy beach and safety
Paradise for a lost Syrian
A home bombed flat, no future there
Facing oblivion


The xenophobes don’t give a damn
They can’t see that race hatred’s wrong
They don’t know their ‘ass from a hole in the ground’
A Randy Newman song


The Border Force helicopter spots them. I hope they’re on the refugee’s side.


All goes quiet, for now.


A Zoolon song. A mini protest. I hope you enjoy;


If you’re interested in my inexpensive PROMO VIDEOS FOR AUTHORS  hit the link here or aim at the one at the top of this blog.


As ever, if any poets out there are interested in having their poems turned into songs then click here to check it out: POETRY TO SONG


If you are looking for all my other music then you’ll find it to download on BANDCAMP  -on the right-hand column of this blog post – or you can stream and/or make a playlist of it on SPOTIFY


If you’re thinking about new gear for the winter you might be interested in ZOOLON’S MERCHANDISE


Copyright © 2017 song; 2020 words – Zoolon Audio. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

I SHUT MY EYES & COUNT TO THREE

DOVER HARBOUR

‘A long way from home – the first living thing you’ll see’


Written in the first person and based on an interview with a refugee on TV a while back. It stayed with me.


I walked from somewhere into nowhere
As a lonesome refugee
No possessions, but in my pocket
Safe and sound, a memory


Painted pictures in the hallway
The carved initials on the tree
The storm clouds playing card games
Above the wild and windy sea


“There’s nothing sacred that isn’t secret”
That’s all she said to me
I knew the answer, but not her question
All I wanted was sanctuary
I knew the answer, but not her question
I shut my eyes and count to three


A piece of music from my ‘Dream Rescuer’ album called ‘Time Out’. I think it fits the mood and hope you like it;


If you’re interested in my inexpensive PROMO VIDEOS FOR AUTHORS  hit the link here or aim at the one at the top of this blog.


As ever, if any poets out there are interested in having their poems turned into songs then click here to check it out: POETRY TO SONG


If you are looking for all my other music then you’ll find it to download on BANDCAMP or you can stream and/or make a playlist of it on SPOTIFY


If you’re thinking about new t-shirts and similar for the summer, you might be interested in ZOOLON’S MERCHANDISE
Here’s an example. ‘The Notes’ leggings.

 

leggings6


Copyright © 2017 music; 2020 words, Zoolon Audio. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

WELCOME TO THE ‘HOTEL BARBED WIRE’

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.

fender

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.

 

BITTERSWEET & THE TICKING CLOCK

refugees

Photograph by Richard Mosse using a thermal imaging camera

This type of camera is mainly used by the military

Mosse used one to capture images of refugees

 

I’d been putting it off for a few weeks, then a couple of days ago I decided to man up and get a haircut. The barber I go to is a one-man band. As I was sat in the chair he got to talking about just how many members of his family had suddenly dropped dead from heart attacks. Loads. I guessed remembering to send birthday cards wasn’t a major issue for him. Whatever, he’d just finished snipping away at my fringe when he told me to hang on a minute. He was looking a bit pale. Then he disappeared. I took a look at myself in the mirror. The random thought ‘village idiot’ hit me. Sure, he’d done the fringe, but at this point he hadn’t cut any of the rest of my hair. I then got to thinking he might be out the back having a heart attack leaving me looking like someone you’d cross the street to avoid. How would I get home? Credibility issues abound. Luckily, he reappeared.

Anyway, the photo of refugees above is more important. The dates and places might change, that’s all. Nothing else changes. I don’t think it ever will. The eyes of refugees (the lucky ones?) always tell their own story. I went with ‘bittersweet’ simply because there is always some hope for the ones who survive the ethnic cleansings and the bombings, even if it’s just hope in defeat.

BITTERSWEET

The whole world could see the horror

Only you and I saw the defeat

Crippled lives in crippled places

Innocent victims, in retreat

 

We are too few in numbers

An unarmed army incomplete

That’s the way it’s always been

Read ‘bittersweet’ for ‘sweet’

 

The whole world could see the horror

Crushed cardboard boxes full of tat

By the grace of big mouth egotists

Heaven’s gates open for the fat cat

 

Left and right and centre

So called leaders claim they’ve won the day

The whole world could see the horror

Only you and I saw a better way

(part lyric for a new number)

My song, ‘The Ticking Clock’ from the Dream Rescuer album is pretty much on a similar theme. I hope you enjoy;

 

Apart from the Richard Mosse photo art – Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio.  All rights reserved.  Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

RANDOM LYRICAL THOUGHT OF ZOOLON

dover5-4

(the picture is of clouds over France taken from Dover Harbour this morning)

Just a thought, thought up driving home on Sunday.

CONTRADICTION (not a poem or a song)

To a land of faith and plenty,

Came the lonesome refugee,

All he wanted was a safe place,

To live, unchained and free,

Yet when he knocked upon the door,

They looked him up and down,

Said he wasn’t welcome,

Gave him the thorny crown,

And a ticket back to nowhere,

A war torn broken city,

Where he was on death’s promise,

Where he’d be shown no pity,

All is well in paradise,

When the lost souls stay away,

And all the good folk living there,

For those same lost souls, they pray.

 

If you fancy a visit, the Zoolon Audio website it is at www.zoolonaudio.com

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