by Headwind-1



This Another Collection Of Tracks, Not In Particular Date Order.


released July 15, 2012



all rights reserved


Headwind-1 UK

Nautical Spacerock!. . .Know Yourself . . Nothing In Excess.
Marine Artwork By Kind Permission Of My Good Friend Barry Mason Seaton, Devon's Foremost Marine Artist.

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Track Name: Honiton Fluew. . . . Maximum Effect
Honiton Fluew Too Near The Sun . . .His Red Bood Like Red Wax. . His Life Fell To The C . . . .Maximum Effect . . .Here Comes The Effect . . . . . .
Track Name: Lake Of Como
Cadenabbia (Lake of Como)

No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks
The silence of the summer day,
As by the loveliest of all lakes
I while the idle hours away.

I pace the leafy colonnade,
Where level branches of the plane
Above me weave a roof of shade
Impervious to the sun and rain.

At times a sudden rush of air
Flutters the lazy leaves o'erhead,
And gleams of sunshine toss and flare
Like torches down the path I tread.

By Somariva's garden gate
I make the marble stairs my seat,
And hear the water, as I wait,
Lapping the steps beneath my feet.

The undulation sinks and swells
Along the stony parapets,
And far away the floating bells
Tinkle upon the fisher's nets.

Silent and slow, by tower and town
The freighted barges come and go,
Their pendent shadows gliding down
By town and tower submerged below.

The hills sweep upward from the shore,
With villas scattered one by one
Upon their wooded spurs, and lower
Bellaggio blazing in the sun.

And dimly seen, a tangled mass
Of walls and woods, of light and shade,
Stands, beckoning up the Stelvio Pass,
Varenna with its white cascade.

I ask myself, Is this a dream?
Will it all vanish into air?
Is there a land of such supreme
And perfect beauty anywhere?

Sweet vision! Do not fade away;
Linger, until my heart shall take
Into itself the summer day,
And all the beauty of the lake;

Linger until upon my brain
Is stamped an image of the scene,
Then fade into the air again,
And be as if thou hadst not been.

Track Name: The Darkness
The Darkness . . Lord Byron's dirge. .
Track Name: The Prisoners Of Love.

Trapped in their tower, the prisoners of love
Loose their last message on the falling air.
The troops of Tyre assault with fire the grove
Where Venus veils with light her lovely hair.

Trembles the tide beneath the tall Martello
That decks the harbour with its wreck of thunder,
Fretting with flowers white and flowers yellow
The fosse of flame into its last surrender.

Night, on my truckle-bed your ease of slumber
Sleep in salt arms the steering night away.
Abandoned in the fireship moon, one ember
Glows with the rose that is the distant day.

The prisoners rise and rinse their skies of stone,
But in their jailer’s eyes they meet their own.
Track Name: Pan
I Am Pan . .I Play My Pipes Of Peace.
I'm Pan . . It Gives Mental Release.
Track Name: Moonshine
None. . Instrumenta.l
Track Name: Pictures Of Appledore

A heap of bare and splintery crags
Tumbled about by lightening and frost,
With rifts and chasms and storm bleached jags,
That wait and growl for a ship to be lost;
No island, but rather the skeleton
Of a wrecked and vengeance-smitten one,
Where, aeons ago, with half shut eye,
The sluggish saurian crawled to die,
Grasping under titanic ferns;
Ribs of rock that seaward jut,

Granite shoulders and boulders and snags,
Round which, though the winds in heaven be shut,
The nightmared ocean murmurs and yearns,
And the dreary black seaweed lolls and wags;
Only rock from shore to shore,
Only a moan through the bleak clefts blown,
With sobs in the rifts where the coarse kelp shifts,
Falling and lifting, tossing and drifting,
And under all a deep, dull roar,
Dying and swelling for evermore,_
Rock and moan and roar alone,
And the dread of some nameless thing unknown,
These make Appledore.

These make Appledore by night:
Then there are monsters left and right;
Every rock is a different monster;
All you have read of, fancied, dreamed,
When you awaken because you screamed,
There they lie for half a mile,
Jumbled together in a pile,
And [though you know they never once stir],
If you look long, they seem to be moving
Just as plainly as plain can be,
Crushing and crowding, wading and shoving
Out into the awful sea,
Where you can hear them snort and spout
With pauses between, as if they were listening,
Then tumult anon when the surf breaks glistening
In the blackness where they wallow about.
This Appledore by night.
Track Name: The Tale Of Peter Bell
soon b. p. But Ha Ha Peter Bell! . . Go Wordsworth Go!
Track Name: Drunken Sailor
What Shall Do X3. . With The Drunken Sailor ?. . . .Hoo. .ray An-UP-She-Risess! x3. . . Early. . In the Morninggg. .Ahhh!
Track Name: The Whole Weird Jam
Robert's; You Can See My Eyes Are Lupine, , , Who Walks. . Upright On Two Feet. . . To The Magic Show. . . May . . His Sparks Forever . .Fly!