Track at the top of the list is currently playing on the commercial-free version of Radio Scenewash, followed in descending order the nine previous tracks. Rember, here on Radio Scenewash, there is some forty plus hours of no-repeat Music for the New American Patriot.
Elton John at the piano live in 1970 with Your Song.
[ Lyrics - Your Song by Bernie Taupin ]
It's a little bit funny this feeling inside I'm not one of those who can easily hide I don't have much money but boy if I did I'd buy a big house where we both could live
If I was a sculptor, but then again, no Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show I know it's not much but it's the best I can do My gift is my song and this one's for you
And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple but now that it's done I hope you don't mind I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world
I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song It's for people like you that keep it turned on
So excuse me forgetting but these things I do You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue Anyway the thing is what I really mean Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen
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Over 650 riffs in continuous play with generous rotation quotas every week. That's over 40 hours of
no-repeat, choice listening. Visceral punk, facetious rock, splattered word, lovely melodies, anthems,
ballads, and shades of other raw underbelly stuff you wouldn't want the goon squads of whatever
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the same sound song after song, avoid the SWORG. Boasting some 8000 plus tracks in our archives,
we mix hardcore with spoken word material drawn from the 1920s forward. The battleground of religious,
political, and social angst is on parade. War is in our midst. The bulk of airplay is devoted to 1980s proto
punk and its older siblings, where melody and beat meets lyric, history meets timelessness, and
new classics crystallize with every juxtaposition. Mixing it up to mimic the thrash and bromide
of the REAL WORLD in conflict and resolve, thus mirroring the stoneground soundtrack stomping
through the blood-washed stalls of my own bittersweet head.