Hide options
Results for: if i was older mp3
Sponsored results
Video results for:if i was older mp3 
Closer - Original - 2004 - Instrumental... This album was done before I had a camera, and I (More) This album was done before I had a camera, and I was on my very 1st PC with Guitar Track 2 on Windows 98! lol! This was my older experimental album of composing 2 to 3 guitar arrangements. Yes the can be played by a Band that has 3 guitar players in it. But few bands do! I have played in a band that had 3 guitar players in it just before I moved to Texas that worked out pretty good! Its hard to do! Unfrotunately they didnt play this album and hold no rights to any of these song at all. They were all written and played by me. I have been looking for another guitar player that can play some what like I do? With the speed and the Rhythm both! To me everything is not all about speed playing? (Shredding) If anyone can put Drums & Bass to this song or any of my others from this album I post, please email me for the mp3. I would love to hear a great Drummer & Bass Player to these songs! And if your good enough, ill even put your name and leave it on You Tube as a Collaberation Project. The album is already copywritten in 2004 so I cannot give up the rights to them, But I will allow people to use them to practice with as full songs. So put your recordings to the song/s you want to do? And lets see if your good enough for what im looking for? I know the recordings are not the best, but do the best you can with it? Im looking for these people to do (New Original Songs with Only)But I have to start some where? And thats looking for a Drummer and a Bass player. And a second guitar player that may want to switch rhythm and lead parts? That I have not decided on completely yet? Then a Singer! But the second guitarist and singer I will look for after I find the Drummer and Bass Player im looking for to do collaberation projects with here on You Tube. (Less)
Janet Kuypers poem "A Chilld in the... Janet Kuypers performed this poem in the live (More) Janet Kuypers performed this poem in the live Chicago feature at the Beach Poets (Loyola Beacg, Chicago) August 14th, 2005. Because this is a live venue on the beach, there were no microhpones, and since Janet Kuypers has a bit of distance between her and the camera (and there is also a bit of wind off of Lake Michigan in Chicago) it is often not very easy to hear the poems from this show. But if you want to either see the full show, or hear studio mp3 recordings from this show, go to the web page http://www.janetkuypers.com/janetkuypers-dot-com--files/beach-poets08-14-05.htm to get the sudio clips, or even the chapbook that was released on the same day with this event. This is the original poem: a child in the park this was no ordinary park, mind you: there were no swings or children laughing; there were different children there. There was recreation: tennis, the pool, and a maze of streets for bicycles and long walks; surrounded by rows of prefabricated homes each with one little palm tree by the driveway. People drove golf carts around in the park, or large tricycles, or older couples would walk together just as it was beginning to turn to dusk and long shadows from tree-tops cris-crossed over the streets. In the afternoons, the women in the pool would wear hats and sunglasses, lean against the sides, swing legs in the warm water. I remember the summer afternoons when it rained in Florida, and after the rain I would go out in the puddles in my roller skates, skate through them, feet soaking wet. There was even a street named after me in the park, and at the end of Jan Drive there was a pond. I spent hours there, playing imaginary games, pretending I was grown-up, feeding the ducks, watching the fish swim around the rocks at my feet, looking for the turtles, listening to the wind. Oh, I remember Mr. Whorall, how he would walk onto his driveway every time I was playing tennis across the street. He would watch me, tell me how I was getting better at the game every time he saw me. And there was also Mrs. Rogers, who lived up the street from me. She saw me riding my bicycle by one day just before Halloween. She invited me in to help carve a pumpkin. Every year she bought me a Christmas present. The sweetest woman. The most beautiful woman. And there was Ira and Betty Wiggins, who lived on the next street, Sand Drive, with a sign in front of their house that said, "The Wiggins' Wigwam." They had a hammock on their porch, and art so beautiful, so colorful on their walls. They lived in Panama for years, he used to be a doctor. So many things collected from all their travel. They both knew so much, they both loved life. Once they saw me and asked if I wanted to catch a lion. They then went to the side of the road, and with a spoon pulled an ant lion from the top of a sand hill. So many secrets. Every night Ira could be found with cue holder, decorated with Panamanian art, at the pool table, playing my father, or another man who died years ago. I remember that man telling me that when I was younger he would watch me on Easter Sunday, me in my pastel dress, by myself, spinning, dancing in the streets. He remembered me dancing. This is his memory, how he thought of me. And I remember the McKinleys, Pete and Lindy, another beautiful pair who talked of Mexico, of all the places they'd gone, all the things they had seen. So many times I would visit them just to hear them talk. And Pete would try to stump me with an intellectual riddle every time I sat with him; he would ask me about astronomy, what I had learned in my classes since the last time I visited the park. Sometimes they would take me to their country club, play on tennis courts made of clay, how strange it felt on my feet through my tennis shoes. It was like another world there. The park was where I spent my Christmases, my Easters. I remember swimming in the pool, a week shy of thirteen, when my parents told me I was an aunt. Now I talk to my sister on the phone, she asks me if I remember so-and-so from Palos Avenue, from Blue Skys Drive. The couple that had the ornate rock garden in their front yard, or the snow shovel against their light post with the words "rust in peace" painted in white on the metal. Yes, I say, I remember them. Well, so-and-so passed away last week, she says. Heart attack. This is what it comes down to, I think, all these memories are slowly disappearing. So many memories. Where there are palm trees everywhere. It was my other world, my other life, another lifestyle, another everything. This was not an ordinary park, but the children were so much smarter, and still so full of life. So much to teach. So little time. (Less)
Sponsored results
Join Our Fan Page on Facebook!
All sites 
Subscribe to get notification of new files containing your search query 
Create alert for if i was older mp3 to bo informed about new search results. 
