Divine Pitch Musings is a series where we play songs that resonate with us, at A = 432Hz. Album: https://divinepitch.bandcamp.com/album/fiddling-while-rome-burns Listen for free on YouTube: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLT_lw5jnedVS7Cba6q6ZMYJQm2gbDhf4p&si=RES6cJq4TXcatXGg The Dying Citizen - Stephen Riddell, inspired by the book of the same name by Victor Davis Hanson. Lyrics: It happened once upon a time In the land of great antiques A new idea began to climb The polis of the Greeks “Demokratia”, they cried “The power of the people Tyrants we will not abide When we become their equal.” Citizens they made their sons Who worked the countryside Those who were the middle ones The mesoi were their pride Not vain like the rich who Grew so corpulent from wealth Not meek like the poor who Needed them to fund their health Chorus Tyrants to the left of me And tyrants to the right No independence left for me To fight for in my plight Everything will fall apart The centre can not hold But who will there be left to care For the dying citizen? Look around and try to see Where is the middle class? Scarcely left are the ones still free To lay down in the grass Crushed beneath the rich who Pay their state to tax and lie Squeezed amongst the poor who Simply shrug and breathe a sigh All their polities fell to Rome But ideas will never die Eventually they found their home In the laws that we live by Tyrants still will seek to rise By playing on our fears Assuaging us with all their lies That they're the one who cares Chorus Utopia that is the meme Of the ones who try to rise Predicated upon the dream Of the ones who moralise “The city of our God will soon Be the city of your man Sup upon our golden spoon And trust unto our plan.” Fortune favours the ones who know That the logos is divine Transcendently we grasp to show The ways to heed the sign The ideal is just a dream We come to when we're lost in thought The world we know as seen Is where our freedom can be sought Chorus

Divine Pitch Musings is a series where we play songs that resonate with us, at A = 432Hz. Album: https://divinepitch.bandcamp.com/album/fiddling-while-rome-burns Listen for free on YouTube: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLT_lw5jnedVS7Cba6q6ZMYJQm2gbDhf4p&si=RES6cJq4TXcatXGg My Son in Amerikay - Alf MacLochlainn Lyrics: A long time ago in the county Mayo, my story it first began Before emigration was finally cured by the First Economical Plan A brave young man had to leave his home and he traveled far away But he got well paid in the job so he stayed on the shores of Amerikay He got on very well but he sent nothing home and his mother began to think Maybe he’d run away with a blonde or was spending his money on drink She wrote him a letter inquiring the news and she sent it straight away And upon the cover she carefully wrote “To me Son in Amerikay!” Well, American postmen, I needn’t relate, they are rather like me and you When at last to that letter they came, they didn’t know what to do They looked up all the official lists, but these had nothing to say There was no directory could help them to find her son in Amerikay! So it lay 'round the office for years and years and it gave all the boys a laugh Until at length it found some use in the training of the staff To every new postman who came on the job it was shown as Exhibit A Of insufficiently addressed to "Me Son in Amerikay"! Oh, the son he got older and wiser too and at last to himself he said “How are things going with me mother at home, and is she alive or dead?” He walked ’round the block to the post depot where he stood with his cap in his hand “By any chance have you a letter for me from me mother in Ireland?” “Oh yes good sir, and here it is, we’ve been waiting for you to call We knew some day someone would come from Cork or Donegal Of the two hundred million that are currently living in the whole of the USA For a mother in Ireland at last we have found a son in Amerikay".

Divine Pitch Musings is a series where we play songs that resonate with us, at A = 432Hz. Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - trad. / Megan Ward Lyrics: Come all ye fair and tender girls That flourish in your prime Beware, beware, keep your garden fair Let no man steal your thyme, Let no man steal your thyme. The gardener's son was standing by Three flowers he gave to me One pink, one blue and a lilac too And a red, red, rosy tree, And a red, red, rosy tree. I did refuse the red, red, rose And all the world could see How the willow grows where the water flows For my love slighted me, For my love slighted me. For woman is a branching tree And man a clinging vine And from her branches carelessly He takes what he can find, He takes what he can find. And when your thyme is past and gone He'll care no more for you And every place where your thyme was waste Will spread all over with rue, Will spread all over with rue.

Divine Pitch Musings is a series where we play songs that resonate with us, at A = 432Hz. Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho - trad. / Megan Ward Lyrics: Joshua fought the battle of Jericho, Jericho, Jericho, Joshua fought the battle of Jericho And the walls came tumbling down. You may talk about your men of Gideon And talk about your men of Saul But the name of that man Joshua Stands tall above them all. Joshua fought the battle of Jericho... Now blow those rams' horns Joshua said And shout at my command With the Ark of the Covenant by my side The battle is in my hand. Joshua fought the battle of Jericho... Rahab the harlot had helped the spies And the spies had sworn to her That all she had within her house Will be spared by Joshua. Joshua fought the battle of Jericho... Around the walls of Jericho The trumpets began to sound And those fabled walls of Jericho They came a-tumbling down. Joshua fought the battle of Jericho... Why not spare the cattle? Or the donkeys or the sheep? Every living thing soon fell Beneath the soldiers' feet. Joshua fought the battle of Jericho... But Rahab hung the scarlet thread To her the spies returned Brought Rahab out of Jericho Before the city burned. Joshua fought the battle of Jericho...