Listen a little closer to the song, Tell me, does it somehow belong? It's not a case of stump the band, But it's a memory of favorites across the land.
Standing ready across this promised land, What you want to hear, a wish becomes a command. Happiness in a song isn't so hard to find, It's the memory dedicated to those left behind.
Death's final gift to those left living Is the memory of what life keeps giving. It may be hard. It might be demanding. But we do what we do to still be standing.
Standing as the lights go down, Somehow we wear victory's sweet crown. A salute to our friends lost along the way, The truth has run us down to this day.
There's a pounding in my chest, As I fight to live, like all the rest. Playing it out to the very end. We find our memories are our last best friend.
A hushed kind of whisper shines its light On our every wrong we thought was right. On the back streets of our fallen night, Man, what a mess we were in God's full sight.
The last chord played in our heart, Was the lost chord we searched for from our start. A tear of happiness rolls down a wrinkled face Of every broken heart that remembers the place.
Tramps like us, we were born to run As we chased after our place in the sun. We really had quite a lot of mischievous fun. Let's have one more day before all days are gone.
...There's no one left to carry on. My heart was sold down at the pawn shop and is gone. ... There's no one left to lean on. It turns out life's fairytale was no once upon...
(c) September 5, 2025 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Hope — Hope in the face of difficulty. Hope in the face of uncertainty. The audacity of hope! In the end, that is God’s greatest gift to us…A belief in things not seen. A belief that there are better days ahead.” – Barack Obama
Bari was again entirely wrong on this one. God’s greatest gift to mankind is salvation. But he was right, considering how his administration dragged America downward; better days were found immediately after Bari left office.
The music, any music, has its own flow, Leaving behind the day as we dance. We enjoy the moments as these flow, As if inside a fluid sense of trance.
The audience is part of the show. The thunder roars across the road. We share a laugh as if we know, Maybe it is a mystery that didn't need told.
Sleeping sitting up as the day goes, Somewhere into the nether world of shadows. These were the rituals of transference That breaks our way, despite its appearance.
Despite the days that seamlessly roll on, No one ever really dies if their memories go on. Our hearts are revealed in every audible line; Music caresses our ears like a forever Valentine.
I look into the loneliness of the night, Wondering if tomorrow will be all right. My soul has peeled away into the darkness, No longer able to hold back life's harshness.
No one writes the diary of the endless road, Except page by page, it cannot be foretold. There's bound to be a nightly miracle displayed. If you listen closely, you'll hear it in every note played.
Tapped into the gospel's not-so-hidden slipstream, Its improvisation becomes our fulfilled dream. Everyone's moments spill into bringing pause, As hot jazz slides past its own regal laws.
We never know past the contrarian fascination, How it will come out beyond the syncopation. Approached with madness and deliberation, The sum of all parts is felt with dedication.
(c) September 4, 2025 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“The peaceful transfer of authority is rare in history, yet common in our country. With a simple oath, we affirm old traditions and make new beginnings.” – George W. Bush
Growing up, living in the shadow of war, There was hope, but little more. Utopian dreams grew from anxiety. There was no surrender to the complexity.
America offered her roots, rock, and blues. Trains were rolling over blue suede shoes. Memphis electrified its rocking guitars, While young British boys dreamed of being stars.
Lonnie Donegan with his skiffle beat, Took the folk into rock, lifted off the streets. Transfixing country and blues into freedom, It was an offering of hope to the United Kingdom.
Allowed or not, guitars brought music to the rise, And with a few melodic runs, there was no real surprise. Vaudeville and music brought the boys from the start Until it caught on in their stalwart hearts.
With no disrespect meant to the fathers, Little Richard's voice knocked it out of the water. Shaking all over as the girls moved closer to connect, It was a shuffle that came to dramatically affect.
There were songs played with a sultry roll, From out of the backbeat, the Shadows stole the show. The church of the corrupt souls led to the slam, Most of it was an improvised, deeply felt jam.
Something was rocking and always going on, From the rhythm to the harp of Sonny Boy Williamson. No one could keep this business to themself, And records kept selling like hotcakes off the shelves.
James Brown's drums held the feel of the hard beat That brought a musical riot to the city streets. Two sticks beat the tempo, pound after pound. John Bonham knew exactly what was to be found.
Here came the players with their electric guitars, With stars in their eyes, they dreamt of being stars. Whatever it took to find the height of that beat, These boys would rock, hanging out on the streets.
Studio sessions were magical and somewhat legendary To be played out accurately and with efficiency. Cutting teeth with improvised parts in the section, This was the beginning of many a connection.
(c) September 3, 2025 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“In the budget I will present to you, we will try to do more to speed the deportation of illegal aliens who are arrested for crimes, to better identify illegal aliens in the workplace as recommended by the commission headed by former Congresswoman Barbara Jordan. We are a nation of immigrants. But we are also a nation of laws. It is wrong and ultimately self-defeating for a nation of immigrants to permit the kind of abuse of our immigration laws we have seen in recent years, and we must do more to stop it.” – William J. Clinton
There's something across the river. A sense of magic that makes me shiver. Shiva dances and plays in a spin, It's as if it's yesterday again.
None of us really knows Before the glory of our best shows, What it means to be tested. Our best love songs are uncontested.
As sleepless as the eyes of the seer, It was destined to be our best year. Until the piper took his ransom, And just as suddenly, we were undone.
But there's a tale to be told As the songs begin to unfold. The defiance felt has an urgency. It provides life's continuity.
The pressures of life struggle for breath. Each of us is inching toward our deaths. Would we have saved it in a letter revealed? Or would it be better to remain concealed?
As sleepless as the eyes of the seer, It was destined to be our best year. Until the piper took his ransom, And just as suddenly, we were undone.
Life is a mix of sunshine and rain. In our happiness, we find our pain. Our love allows this, expressed to each other, And that is to say, given to one another.
Then it is you who is the splendor in my eyes The beauty of this is that it is no real surprise. From the moment we met, we have been in love As if it were decreed from our God above.
As sleepless as the eyes of the seer, It was destined to be our best year. Until the piper took his ransom, And just as suddenly, we were undone.
From the stage, we turned life's page, Feeling like gods in this latter age. Someone said, 'Pull the plug,' and we laughed.' We all look at each other as if we were daft.
As the band played us across the floor, We knew we wished we'd walk across time's shore. Hand in hand, we'd walk radiant in the moonlight, And the songs of our youth would make it alright.
As sleepless as the eyes of the seer, It was destined to be our best year. Until the piper took his ransom, And just as suddenly, we were undone.
The show came to an end with great applause. It was a beautiful thing that made us pause. Listening closely as our hearts roared, Rock is the feeling that can't be ignored.
And if it were, it would be something tragic. There's nothing like our diamond's magic. Sparkling like a wine that won't let us down. I don't care if I wear your jester's crown.
As sleepless as the eyes of the seer, It was destined to be our best year. Until the piper took his ransom, And just as suddenly, we were undone.
I see it in your eyes; there on your face. It returns me to that special place. We'll dance to love's music until we die. It's that anticipation that always makes you cry.
The roots of our consciousness hold the power, It's the sense of our love burns in this hour. From the moment that you allowed me your dance, I have been lovingly captured and entranced.
As sleepless as the eyes of the seer, It was destined to be our best year. Until the piper took his ransom, And just as suddenly, we were undone.
(c) September 2, 2025 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
ALOHA PROMISES FOREVER 