OUTLAWS OF FOLK MUSIC SERIES drawing Great Crowds- where music, songwriters& Artist, oddballs and fans join together as one!

Outlaws of Folk Music Hosted by yours truly MICHAEL UBALDINI is a great Night of Music . Not your typical showcase.. Its filled with misfits Songsters Poets , Artists Rockers , a sea of creativity , Everyone supports Each other , Tonight We had John Tolley & Casey And the tall Boys perform along with me... the place was packed , its every first Thursday of each Month At ALTA COFFEE HOUSE NEWPORT BEACH CA.
No Cover and all ages , Great food great vibe .. like the Coffee Houses of yesteryear filled with creative force and outlaw rebellion... no Pompous vibe here...No one talks through the acts and the singers all hang out and sometimes participate in a final get together Hootenanny at the end of the night. the Artist Play 35 minute sets each and pass the Hat for tips. A great 'Up Close' show, and The only one of its kind.. Its always a packed house held the first Thursday of each month...

we will see ya at the next one.. bring your friends to a songwritin' and performance Artist coffee concert series that is all about the music And the vibe of the Coffee house...
8 PM til 10 30 every first Thursday of each month..
If you wished you coulda' been in the Village in the early 60's to see young Bob Dylan Phil Ochs Biaz, Havens, Ramblin Jack, and Van Ronk.. Come and see the 21st century 'Modern Troubadours& songsters .. At The MICHAEL UBALDINI 'OUTLAWS OF FOLK MUSIC SERIES' Every first Thursday At ALTA COFFEE HOUSE 31st Street in Newport Beach... You will love it. all about the fans & The Music...Come sing with us all!!

MIchael Ubaldini & Lonesome Playboys-CNN Headline news TIME WARNER 2010

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.