Michael Ubaldini "Award Winning Singer / Songwriter" on What's Up Orange...

DREAM SEQUENCE #7-Street singin’ Troubadour Blues- Way over’ yonder in ‘The End times’

From The soon to be published 2nd edition of The Book MICHAEL UBALDINI- 'LOST AMERICAN NIGHTS"Lyrics & Poems'

I better capture the words right now

Before enchantment disappears

The eyes of honesty wept

Invoking love with fear.

Taste the shadows and the pain deep

In this whiskey flask,

Her arms hold me strong with truth,

Or does the rabbit don the mask.

We’re warm within a shack beyond the cold

A flickering shack

With eyes burn through like coal

Four walls surround us

Created by mind scheme –

Our love explodes like stars

In the night ocean stream

The lights burn the dark on all highways

The rivers flow where

Darkness makes love with the sun

Though I’m alone

Standing gazing toward the rivers cape

Wondering if my openness will leave wound where

My hearts at stake.

My collars up

I hang my head and stroll along

I’m in search for salvation,

She’s my lover, and if childhood dreams aren’t but a whim,

I jump in –

Head first and drown before I’d swim.

written by MICHAEL UBALDINI copyright Library of Congress

all rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or part in any form

First edition of The book 'Lost American Nights published by Moontide Press 2006

ST . CHRISTOPHER BLUES

ST.CHISTOPHER BLUES

Visions of Saints rowing home in the sand

The placid wind screen

Six trumpets in the band

Your skin so soft lift the petals of your silk

All over your lips the taste of malted milk

The stars are burning bright

The autumn leaves are brown

The night forever hangs

I’m listening for the sound

Hustling with a woman in the alley on the ground

Shuffling to the rhythm on the dirty side of town.

I live the free life the American way

Smoke in bars on sacred holidays

Get drunk on the weekend and leave my car and walk home

Wander sleazy highways and I walk ‘em alone

I hang out in diners in Motel 6

A junkie for a bar whore make a quick fix

She smells like cigarettes and alcohol

Crawl like a sapphire dog ‘til I’m ten feet tall.

Hanging out in the pool hall hustle a few drinks

I’m high and I’m tired push indulgence to the brink

I’m Marti Eden” a poet with the blues

Getting off on desolation , religious solitude

I see every sin clear on the internet line

Someone knows your whole life

Someone else knows mine

I gotta dance honey to that September beat

Sweet sensation nipping at the heels of my feet.

There’s a river on the highway

The cheats are rowing home

On the raft of false promise sittin’ on a throne

I hear the magnolia bloom

Violent winds attack

Someone stole my sainthood

And now I want it back.

I know how he must’ve felt

St. Christopher

Tarnished as a saint

Left only with revenge.

WRITTEN BY MICHAEL UBALDINI
COPYRIGHT 'LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
- FROM THE BOOK - Michael Ubaldini-'LOST AMERICAN NIGHTS-Lyrics& Poems - Moon tide press

All The Gardens Of Summer

GLOBAL AMERICA

GLOBAL AMERICA

Words & Music by Michael Ubaldini- copyright 2000

TAKEN FROM THE ALBUM

" AMERICAN BLOOD " CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED INDIE RELEASED BY SONGWRITER POET MICHAEL UBALDINI

I saw chariots of fire burn into the great unknown

I saw a groom at the altar standing all alone

I saw a red, white and blue

Down in the river of blood

I saw diseased rats devour what was left of love

The false prophet spoke, from his lips

Sugar dripped sweet

The Arch Angel walked over the dead bodies in the street.

The false prophet came, they put a crown on his

Head, the crown wasn’t made of thorns.

This was gold instead

They sent a limo to the airport

From the podium he spoke

All races believed what he said, blinded by rose colored

Smoke, the false prophet spoke

The governments were on his side

The Arch angel had to cut the rope of those hung

Before they were tried.

I don’t wanna see visions, they’re making me insane

Pictures flashing in my mind, eating up my brain

Polaroid’s of life left to drown out at sea

Killers clothed with the robe of democracy

The President of the company

Sat back and grinned in the office chair.

The Arch Angel played a Gibson guitar but they

Couldn’t find him anywhere

The false prophet came and gave flowers to the

Children. He was workin’ on their innocence

Like a master surgeon

All the women loved him for he came in peace

The rich and the poor and the homeless in the street.

They celebrated with party’s and great global parades. The Arch Angel sharpened his sword

Smiled and sipped his lemonade.

I heard a church bell tower ringing loud

The media came, it drew a huge crowd.

The false prophet was smiling he wore a golden robe,

He was challenged to a fight on the side of the road.

Plagues they came, spewed up from the earth,

The I.R.S. claimed pay per view and the

Possessions left of worth.

I saw the beloved prophet take off his mask

He drank dollars and cents from an engraved

Whiskey flask. He fooled all the rebels cause he

knew that tattoos were in. They all had his name

Tattooed on their skin.

Heartbroken they cried, as they heard the

Undertakers bell, they drank milk from the bowls

Of contaminated wells.

Then I saw a clash in the walls of the sky

Bloodshed and great ships. Three headed pirates

with patches on their eyes

The world was face down in a grave with nowhere to run;

I saw a battle that RAGED, then took away the sun.

The Arch Angel stood tall. The referee raised his hand. The false prophet took the fall. But with him he took

The souls of fellow man

Welcome to Global America

The globalization of America

If history repeats itself my friend,

Rome will fall again.

Michael Ubaldini Ramblings From A Roadside Diner: 'Street Singin' Troubadour'

Michael Ubaldini Ramblings From A Roadside Diner: 'Street Singin' Troubadour': "Michael Ubaldini “Street Singin’ Troubadour“ (Blackwater Records, 2008) - Review- Americana U.K. Phil Edwards 8 out of 10 stars -10 being b..."

PEOPLE ARE ALL PLUGGED IN BUT THE BULB IS DIM

People are all plugged in, Have ya noticed?
people with wires stickin' out of their wax filled ears, Text here Text there..
Earphone pieces talking loudly so you can hear em'

People in a hurry to go nowhere..
Dear reader I write this out of love not cynicism,
cause cynics see the bad in anything & miss the beauty in everything


No creativity anywhere..
Free Country.. But can you really call that freedom being plugged in?
I mean yeah it can be good to plug in
but your feet better be dry...
Everyone's feet look wet to me
just wading in the typhoon that's about to hit hard..

Don't Know..Don't matter

How do ya pick up your next date?
Dates are a drag with a chaperon The machine...All those songs on a little box..
Fast food can give ya heartburn..
Two people at a table together yet on a phone or playing some game or texting....why not converse with each other?
..Be bold
Talk ..its kind of something new to try...

naw fer git it man...

ya may stumble on an idea
You may have to help you friend up when he falls...My My all that human touch...
Mercy!! (thanks Roy)
that could throw everything off.. I mean how can one survive with that human contact and exchange of ideas after all?!

Deaden your mind to all that surrounds you and see nothing,
or open em' and see it all for what it is...
I used to dig sheep when they were in a pack doing nothing cept'
grass but now the sheep have kicked Little Bo Peep in the kisser...
she didn't notice cause she was to busy watching every ones life on twitter
she didn.t even know she lost em'
The Big bad wolf didn't eat em on principle...
He just went and played poker with The three little pigs at a speak easy owned by grandma
he took red riding hood as his date... they were all fed up with it
besides when its all over they have a place to live..The house made of bricks by piggie number three..

Mother goose didn't lay an egg she just took a dump...
And it smells like what robots humans have become....
locked minds
bolted spirits,
the key to nothing
Even the Three blind mice hangin out with Winkin Blikin & Nod can understand that...
They told us so
I know its true someone posted it on Facebook...gotta be ...I mean honest to golly jeepers creepers ..everyone got peepers...and they are watching me and you boogalooo.


That is the fast food we are gettin' served..Dylan wrote the Times are a Changin
Boy didn't they though?
The Pistols sang "No Future"
boy was Johnny right on the mark...
Dylan also sang "ya Gotta serve somebody"
(cept people -the fools- don't believe in God today...... after all
TV reality has shown humans that THEY are God... they would rather not "Serve yourself' As John Lennon parodied but.. more like "Serve themselves up!
Boy oh boy!!!...

that is the 'wrong em Boyo' Joe Strummer!
ya hit the nail on the head there.. Stagger Lee(Or Stackolee depends on which era we are talkin' of) even gave Bill Lyons his Stetson back it would seem...

B-B-B-Billy Bibbit is a stuttering' somewhere...
Nurse Ratcehd is in control.. and I believe running for a 2nd term
The Twilight Zone taught us about the phrase to "How Serve man"...
you remember?... "Its a cook book"
And our goose is being deep fried with Technology of machines and political crap correctness...
better sprinkle some salt on yourself and take a real good bite..
I'm a little afraid so I'm puttin' on the jester hat
I want no part of this Dewey

Dig?

Smile your on candid camera..
Sports stars private lives
people watch..
Judge like they have on a white wig
They may have a cell phone ear piece but its used like a gavel,
scares the heck outta me..

The in thing now is for people to put each other down,
talk show hosts etc etc..

Lets ruin em cause they have talent
lets ruin em cause they don't
Lets hate em if retires ,
lets hate em' if he comes back,
lets praise he who kills dogs with another chance...but lets spray paint people with a mink coat& call em' needless animal killers...
lets Kill babies in the crib and say "only the good die young"
I say Lets Not..
Lets act intellectual
or lets not
Lets destroy it all..
Are you kidding ?
I say Lets Not..

No Romance without a kiss,
No real music without truth like this
And no fight without a two pairs of Fists..

Tough insults behind a computer protection
false identity
No guts..
I am outta here man
About to slap a Muddy Waters platter in the turntable..

you cant light up a room
The roaches scatter when ya do...
problem is Most of em are all plugged in
But the fuse is short Bulb is dim...

gonna get me a candle
gonna say a prayer cause I believe one day
The meek will win.
And I will ask to be forgiven'
cause I want in.......