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Diaraby is a traditional West African tune.  I originally became familiar with it when Ry Cooder and Ali Farka Touré did a great rendition of it on their Talking Timbuktu album.  And, while their version is tremendous, I think I am liking this simpler version better...

 

This may not grab you in the first two seconds you listen to it, but if you listen and relax with it you may find yourself being transported to elswhere...it's really quite good, but takes a bit of time investement.

 


 

If you like this type of music (I find it very relaxing), Talking Timbuktu is  a great album and is on YouTube FREE!

Ali Farka Toure & Ry Cooder - Talking Timbuktu (Full Album)

 


 


 

 

 

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:) Look what I just got in a container!     :)  ...I found a song to go with it   :)  

 


FUvaDye.jpg



 

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Edited by ByeByeBye
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41 years ago today we all ( who were born ) heard the news that Elvis had died

 

 

 

 

 

 

RIP Aretha Franklin past away today at the age of 76 ..

 

Edited by Bydo
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Just loved it

 

 

Lyrics

 

 

 

[Verse 1]

I didn’t mean to hurt you when I hurt myself

It’s just an empty lie screaming out for help No,

I didn’t mean to scare you

But I couldn’t see that when I went to hell I was taking you with me

 

[Chorus]

When I close my eyes I’m climbing in the dark

Trying not to fall apart

Sometimes I get so high

Falling is the only out I see

And I don’t wanna take you down with me [?]

Take you down, take you down with me [?]

(Take you down, take you down, take you down)

Down with me

[Verse 2]

This life is like a razor

When it cuts I bleed

But it's in my hand And I'm doing it to me

Sometimes it's like an ocean

And it gets too deep

There's no way that now

You could rescue me

[Chorus]

When I close my eyes

I’m fighting in the dark

Trying not to break your heart

Sometimes I get so high Falling is the only out I see

And I don’t wanna take you down with me

[bridge]

You need to let it go now

Before you drown I know that you won't understand

You need to let go of these hands

Cause I'm going now

And I don't wanna take you down with me

[Outro]

And I don't wanna take you down with me

Take you down, down with me

 

 

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Great song...great artist...he is missed.
 
With a myriad of lyric interpretations, here is mine (which seems patently obvious to me...but, art and all...)
 
In the villa of Ormen, in the villa of Ormen
Stands a solitary candle, ah-ah, ah-ah
In the centre of it all, in the centre of it all
Your eyes
 
In the house of Men, there is a single life/flame in the center of everything/universe (ah-ah ooooo) and that is you seeing through your eyes.
 
As a kid I called this phenomenon "looking out through your eyes".  Now I just call it "perspective", or central-perspective. I refer to it many times in my writing.
 
In the spolier is a poem from TS Elliot that I think Bowie was refering to with the crucified scarecrows.  The super famous lines from this poem are:
 
This is the way the world ends,
Not with a bang but a whimper.
 

The Hollow Men - T. S. Eliot
 
 
Mistah Kurtz - he dead.
 
A penny for the Old Guy
 
I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
 
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
 
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
 
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
 
Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—
 
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
 
III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
 
Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.
 
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
 
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
 
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
 
V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.
 
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
 
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
 
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
 
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
 
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Edited by ByeByeBye
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