Original piano composition - Two to Tango – Kelly Bogan
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Kelly Bogan, music producer,
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Gingerbread Houses
Tom Christie and Santa Joe Moore welcome you to "Traditionally Speaking", all things Christmas on both sides of the Atlantic. Christmas Lights. Copyright © Tom Christie and Joe Moore, all rights reserved. Gingerbread Houses.
BROOKLYNN - i hate it here
On and on it goes i know It’s just a part of me Never ever been something I control How did we get here I fear I’m worried for my life Is it just a matter of time Before we go Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here The cycle carried on Just like a feather in the wind It was hard to trace it back But we knew it’d never end And the houses They were never ever built on sinking sand They were built on backs of men They were trying to break The kingdom grew and told those men That they were never great And they showed them only hate Anytime they were showcased Okay Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here There were bruises left in history They kept a mystery from us And the people that tried to break us They only feared us Because we were too free We were too free We were too free We were too free Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here
Where Fools Inhabit - James Hawken
Don't ask me! There I was in a slow, bluesy, old beat up piano kind of mood when something overtook the process. Imagine Todd Rundgren a la 'Bat Out of Hell' meets Brian May's 'Red Special' and you'll get the idea. 'At the end of the day Brian, it's a game of two halves (J.G.)'.
BROOKLYNN - i hate it here
On and on it goes i know It’s just a part of me Never ever been something I control How did we get here I fear I’m worried for my life Is it just a matter of time Before we go Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here The cycle carried on Just like a feather in the wind It was hard to trace it back But we knew it’d never end And the houses They were never ever built on sinking sand They were built on backs of men They were trying to break The kingdom grew and told those men That they were never great And they showed them only hate Anytime they were showcased Okay Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here There were bruises left in history They kept a mystery from us And the people that tried to break us They only feared us Because we were too free We were too free We were too free We were too free Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it Momma oh Momma oh how I hate it here Oh how I hate it here
Where Fools Inhabit - James Hawken
Don't ask me! There I was in a slow, bluesy, old beat up piano kind of mood when something overtook the process. Imagine Todd Rundgren a la 'Bat Out of Hell' meets Brian May's 'Red Special' and you'll get the idea. 'At the end of the day Brian, it's a game of two halves (J.G.)'.