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The final song from The Could-Have-Been King.

Andrea Christen did the artwork. Like this:

Nowhere

He puts up a sign beside the grave
it says “here lay my dreams”
and you hear his sigh of relief
’cause it’s been killing him piece by piece

and he turns to find his way home
but he sees no footsteps there
and he wonders when he’s become
another old man going nowhere

and a twinkle in his eye shows
it’s a tear because he knows
he’s never gonna get anywhere

with his head low he passes through a town
this girls says “hello”
“mister, where are you going?”
he walks on but she demands to know

he lowers his eyes – there’s nothing to tell
but his callouses got stories to share
she gives him a look and he admits
“I’m just an old man going nowhere”

and a twinkle in her eye shows
it’s a smile ’cause she knows
he’s never gonna go anywhere

“Mister, all our men left us behind
we don’t know what they hope to find
about our home they don’t seem to care”

“Mister that is why I plead
you are just the one we need
an old man going nowhere”

and a twinkle in his eye shows
a tear of joy now he knows
he won’t have to go anywhere

they find him a little house
and sew him clothes and bring him food
“mister, please don’t go anywhere
that’s all we ask of you”

they ask him for advice
“should I stay or should I go
and by the way you seem to know this place so well
tell me mister, how is that so?”

then a twinkle in his eye shows
it’s a smile because he knows
he quite enjoys the air
in that small town called nowhere

Number nine from my upcoming album, The Could-Have-Been King.

Again, Andrea shows us how the song artwork was done:

If Only

He woke up every morning
with his mind spinning round
skipped breakfast with his family
far away from the here and now

he stepped into his rocket car
and swore to keep his oath
then he fired up the engine
buckled up and hit the road

eyes fixed on the horizon
to ease his greatest fear
that the voice inside his head would say
what he didn’t want to hear

I could have, I should have
if only – oh, I would have

At night he lay awake in bed bed
wrote lists of things to do
but without sleep whence came the dreams
he tried to make come true?

No time to ask, no time to think
no time to waste at all
he believed he could already see
the final curtain fall

And thus unfolds the tragedy
’cause our hero won’t live twice
the choir chants and clouds his gaze
as he is searching for the price

I could have, I should have
if only – oh, I would have

For all the dreams and meaning
he had been chasing after
he’d missed the breakfast table
the bliss of children’s laughter

The smell of coffee in the air
the crisp crunch of a croissant
the silence when you just taste life
when summer nights are long

It all had always been right there
only now he saw and cried
the angels whispered in his ear
all the while he died

I could have, I should have
if only – oh, I would have

Song number eight from my album The Could-Have-Been King.

Andrea Christen painted the artwork. Like this:

Under my Hat

I picked you up
when you were out of luck
broken on the side of the road

You were just a child
facing the wild
and a future of horrors untold

But I took you in
we walked all the way
and you decided to stay

We shared everything
and would play all day
and never part ways

And you smiled and said:
“come, walk with me
I’m gonna show you
how life’s s’posed to be”

And you moved in right under my hat
oh my sweet little pussycat

When fate hit me
like a steam-engine train
you took my sorrow
and soothed my pain

Sometimes I’d curse my birth
and make the most bitter remark
you’d take be back to earth
and tell me ’bout proper scars (and healed my raging heart)

And you smiled and said:
“come, play with me
I’m gonna show you
how life’s s’posed to be”

And you moved in right under my hat
oh my sweet little pussycat

One day I found you all alone
in the garden by the backdoor
you had tried to call for help
but I couldn’t help you no more

You could barely breathe
couldn’t move your little feet
there was nothing I could do
nothing to help you

It was time to say goodbye
there we lay, you and I
and I could only cry and watch you die

And with your last breath you said:
“why – don’t be sad – be glad
we’re spending these last moments together
promise: always remember the good times we had!”

“Remember the sweetness
remember the laughs
remember the being
the bond and the scars”

And you smiled and said:
“now you will see
that I have shown you
how life’s s’posed to be”

And you moved in right under my hat
oh my sweet little pussycat

The seventh song on my album The Could-Have-Been King:

By now I should not need to mention anymore that Andrea Christen takes us on the journey through the making of this song artwork:

The Gale

A breeze is coming down the hill
upon which angry sparrows fly
they rustle and they stir the mind
their numbers multiply

We are the gale that swipes away
your empire of lies
we rip apart the veil of fear
you hold before our eyes

Oh I appeal, we struck a deal
you agreed to pay the price
I relieve you of your burden
and you, you close your eyes

You nourish and you worship me
your decisions now are mine
I feast upon your weaknesses
and you fall in line

Hear ten thousand wings beat all in vain
see wolf and man play their wicked game
twisted words fall to the ground
empty shells of putrid sound
this judgement you can not rescind:
you are scum – you are a pimp

We will cut off your tentacles
you’ll suffer at our hands
sow a wind and reap a storm
this wrath is beyond sense

You accuse me of deceit
of insincerity and greed
in truth it is a mirror
that you wish to defeat

Hear ten thousand wings beat all in vain
see wolf and man play their wicked game
twisted words fall to the ground
empty shells of putrid sound
this judgement you can not rescind:
you are scum – you are a pimp

This is going to be song number six on my album The Could-Have-Been King.

Of course it only took the inimitable Andrea Christen just four minutes to creat the magnificent artwork for this song. Watch Andrea on fire right here:

I Don’t Know

It ain’t hard to say “I don’t know”
as a matter of fact it will save you many tears
if you avoid to set your mind in stone
everything will be oh so clear

‘Cause if you don’t know how hard it is
you will learn that life’s a bliss
and if you don’t know it can’t be done
every challenge can be overcome

If you just say you don’t know
there is no harm done
’cause it ain’t wrong to be right
but it’s all right to be wrong

We don’t like to feel alone
and find it hard to accept the unknown

So we theorize and speculate
pretend, assume and postulate
conclude and put on a show
but we still do not know

Some things just ain’t sure
and sometimes they just change
then what about your certainty
can you get yourself rearranged?

We have the urge to know for certain
would love to peek behind the curtain
cause this nagging voice, this constant noise
keeps on asking “did I make the right choice?”

If you just say you don’t know
there is no harm done
’cause it ain’t wrong to be right
but it’s all right to be wrong

Don’t be afraid to make a mistake
if you’re an artist and when you create
you’re gonna try, try, try
you’re gonna fail, fail, fail
and that is why
you’re gonna get it nailed

If you just say you don’t know
there is no harm done
’cause it ain’t wrong to be right
but it’s all right to be wrong

If you know that you don’t know
that means there’s still room to grow

This is #5 on my album The Could-Have-Been King.

Once more Andrea Christen did a marvellous job on the song artwork and does not hesitate to let us have a look at those magic hands of hers:

Past Forty

They tell you “now it’s gonna be all downhill”
but to me it feels more like a rollercoaster thrill
you know? the part after the first incline?
towards the free fall but I know I’m gonna be fine

’cause I left all the baggage behind
the money, the sex, the fame no longer have me blind
the rules I now follow are all my own
behold: I am the laser that cuts through stone

I know everything I don’t know
I’ve mapped those roads I won’t follow
I know exactly how not to succeed
I’m past forty and I know what I don’t need

I’m past forty – and I’m not a millionaire
I’m past forty – and I’d rather spend my time with care
I’m past forty – am I a stoic or a mule?
at least I know that I’m a fool

Sometimes there’s just a lot of trouble to go through
bad fortune seems to stick to you like superglue
I have learned which battles to chose
no more detours – I just got one pair of shoes

I’m past forty – and I seem to some young folks
I’m past forty – but I’m still younger than my jokes
I’m past forty – I know the game: you cannot cheat
but I still got some tricks up my sleeve

Song #4 from my album The Could-Have-Been King.

As always the artwork comes from the experienced mind and fingers of Andrea Christen who, yet again, allows us an intimate glimpse into her process in this video:

I Smile

I smile
when you ask me
“how do you do?”

That’s all I reply
to show what you can’t see
and I can’ tell you

You know ’bout my sorrow
the souls I have lost
and if you ask me tomorrow
life will still be unjust

These scars I bear
and I still feel the pain
but from more suffering
there’s nothing to gain

So I smile
’cause tears do nothing
but get you wet

But it is not a lie
when I dance and sing
and smile instead

Because bright eyes can change reality
bright eyes feel better to me

I smile – so life’s not in vain
I smile – to wash away the pain
’cause a smile can turn things upside down
truth is: you can’t do that with a frown

Do you really want your shoulders to get wet?
Would you enjoy to brush away the tears I shed?
Or could you just understand that I’ve let go and can accept?

The title track from my album The Could-Have-Been King.

The Artwork, of course, could be crafted by none other than the wonderful Andrea Christen. In this video she gives us a glimpse into her process:

The Could-Have-Been King

He never had a career
would go out to hunt deer
sometimes he had luck, sometimes not

Wore the skin of bear
was welcome everywhere
but preferred to live alone in his hut

A scholar who’d never gone to school
mother hadn’t raised him to be a fool
a Jack of all trades with skillful hands
but alas he couldn’t dance

So hear me sing
of the could-have-been king
the man so strong and tall
a one man rebellion
he was hung like a stallion
but he would always trip and fall

So he stumbled through life
and struggled to find
a place to call his home

And when he found his queen
they did things quite obscene
in their hut by the lake on their own

On a treadmill he’d never been seen
he was no part of the big machine
yet he built and he made and he sang and he gave
and he kept his secret safe

So hear me sing
of the could-have-been king
the man so strong and tall
a one man rebellion
he was hung like a stallion
but he would always trip and fall
or just hit a wall

But all their babys died
and the beasts in the forest were quiet
the leaves in the wind ceased their play
and what once had been crimson and gold turned grey

“no, no no, no no,” he cried
“no, this just ain’t right
“I never asked to play in your game”
and that’s when he broke and quit the fight

And with a twist of his wrist
he conjured a mist
and has never been seen again

This story turned grim
’cause he who could have been king
had become a broken man

This verse is the last
and I hear you ask:
“what was that secret he kept?”

Well, I ain’t no snitch
but that man was bewitched
and this song you shall never forget

So hear me sing
of the could-have-been king
the man so strong and tall
a one man rebellion
he was hung like a stallion
but he would always trip and fall

This is the second song I wrote for my album The Could-Have-Been King.

As always the artwork was created by the wonderful Andrea Christen.

Eighty-Five

Sixty-five years of ignorance
feeling lonely these days
as you marvel at your wrinkled hands
you think about your ways

So far as you’re converned
you’ve never once been wrong
and the things that you could have learned
you’ve known all along

You let the world take it’s course outside
while you hid from the sun
yeah, you’re the kind of person
to frown upon fun

Eighty-five years you’ve had no clue
eighty-five years a grouch and a fool
you’ve never been nice all your life
and now you’re eighty-five

and noone’s gonna miss you

Twenty years to go
life has gotten slow
senility makes you forget
fear is all you know

Spite is the poison that you picked
you revel in the pain that your words inflict

You never wondered how it feels
to wear another man’s shoes
hell, you’ve never even changed your socks
would only get you confused

You don’t realize at eighty-five
you’re still a spoilt little boy
you stumble ’round and you soil yourself
wearing tattered corduroy

During the war you stayed at home
and yet you claim you won the war on your own

Now your mind’s become threadbare
only grudges left in your head
and still you say you won’t change
you’d rather be dead

Go ahead

Eighty-five years you’ve had no clue
eighty-five years a grouch and a fool
you’ve never been nice all your life
and now you’re eighty-five