The Lairs Of Lonely Souls - 11/11/19 12:31 PM
The Lairs Of Lonely Souls
This song was inspired by several singer-songwriter songs I heard on the Soundcloud Weekly list. Couple of those songs were by regular submitters on this showcase forum, I'll let you guess who these two artists are
Lyrical inspiration came from the fact that increasing number of people are living alone nowadays... originally I had an outdoor image on my mind, but somehow it turned more into an indoor state of mind. Once again, BIAB provided perfect instruments to express my idea
Based on the style _HIGHSID.STY (Highside Americana Folk):
RealTracks in style: 2877:Bass, Acoustic, AmericanaSlow16thsByron Ev16 060
RealTracks in style: 3148:Mandola, Rhythm AmericanaFolk16thsAndy ev16 060
RealTracks in style: 3150:Mandola, Background AmericanaFolk16thsAndy ev16 060
RealTracks in style: 3109:Guitar, Electric, Rhythm AmericanaFolk16thsLowBrent Ev16 060
RealDrums [in style:Folk16thsSlowBrushes^01-a:BRK2, b:BRS
added the following instruments:
RealDrums: SpoonsTradHornpipe
RealTracks:
Electric piano #904
Electric guitar #2879
Acoustic guitar soloist #3321
Fiddle #2008, #2880
Mandolin soloist #3191
Vocals by me
Mixed in Cakewalk by BandLab
Lyrics:
A cold Sunday morning
lost in the mist of solitude
can't see a face of a kindred neighbor
in life's interlude.
No ships in the harbor
importing goods of hope
just a wintery wind of oblivion
shaking broken ropes.
In the lairs of lonely souls
all songs and stories are homespun
longing is inspiration
when the table is set for one.
In the lairs of lonely souls
a heart needs a patient plumber
a self needs a painter
and senses a touch of summer.
An old sad outsider
is hiding in a diner booth
writing notes, thinking "friends for life" was
just a slip of youth.
The meringue lost its sweetness
the facades are grim and gray
the call-center doorman never asks
"How's your health today?"
[Chorus]
A little cell in the beehive
on the floor number twenty-five
The broken heater keeps company
on the birthday of the pessimist
solo dancing on the to-do-list.
The vents howl the absence
the smell of fall in midi coats
a leaking tap drums the shabbiness
tints of time in fridge door quotes.
In the thoughts of the writer
the door is safety locked
the three-layer windows, padded walls
damp if chances knock.
[Chorus]
--------
Janne
This song was inspired by several singer-songwriter songs I heard on the Soundcloud Weekly list. Couple of those songs were by regular submitters on this showcase forum, I'll let you guess who these two artists are
Lyrical inspiration came from the fact that increasing number of people are living alone nowadays... originally I had an outdoor image on my mind, but somehow it turned more into an indoor state of mind. Once again, BIAB provided perfect instruments to express my idea
Based on the style _HIGHSID.STY (Highside Americana Folk):
RealTracks in style: 2877:Bass, Acoustic, AmericanaSlow16thsByron Ev16 060
RealTracks in style: 3148:Mandola, Rhythm AmericanaFolk16thsAndy ev16 060
RealTracks in style: 3150:Mandola, Background AmericanaFolk16thsAndy ev16 060
RealTracks in style: 3109:Guitar, Electric, Rhythm AmericanaFolk16thsLowBrent Ev16 060
RealDrums [in style:Folk16thsSlowBrushes^01-a:BRK2, b:BRS
added the following instruments:
RealDrums: SpoonsTradHornpipe
RealTracks:
Electric piano #904
Electric guitar #2879
Acoustic guitar soloist #3321
Fiddle #2008, #2880
Mandolin soloist #3191
Vocals by me
Mixed in Cakewalk by BandLab
Lyrics:
A cold Sunday morning
lost in the mist of solitude
can't see a face of a kindred neighbor
in life's interlude.
No ships in the harbor
importing goods of hope
just a wintery wind of oblivion
shaking broken ropes.
In the lairs of lonely souls
all songs and stories are homespun
longing is inspiration
when the table is set for one.
In the lairs of lonely souls
a heart needs a patient plumber
a self needs a painter
and senses a touch of summer.
An old sad outsider
is hiding in a diner booth
writing notes, thinking "friends for life" was
just a slip of youth.
The meringue lost its sweetness
the facades are grim and gray
the call-center doorman never asks
"How's your health today?"
[Chorus]
A little cell in the beehive
on the floor number twenty-five
The broken heater keeps company
on the birthday of the pessimist
solo dancing on the to-do-list.
The vents howl the absence
the smell of fall in midi coats
a leaking tap drums the shabbiness
tints of time in fridge door quotes.
In the thoughts of the writer
the door is safety locked
the three-layer windows, padded walls
damp if chances knock.
[Chorus]
--------
Janne