Maharaja Blues

“The Ballad of the Slippery Sea Bass” Oh I’m all at sea with my Sea Bass, the bass bass with a critical mass, it wriggles notes that should be yummy Crew Chorus: But they slip away, all squirmy slummy! He flaps his fins at every bar, slides off key like a tipsy star, and every time I try to catch Crew Chorus: He squirts a chord and lifts the latch! (All together ) Heave away, ye tuneful tide, let the fish strings sing and glide, for every note that bubbles free is a song from the heart of the sea. And when he swims off proud and smelly, burping tunes from his fishy belly, the gulls all groan, the dolphins flee Crew: But the ocean roars, “Play on, lad, he’s free!” By Miku the bad bass bass bard The Ballad of Resonator Rich, Buccaneer Extraordinaire Oh Resonator Rich was a buccaneer bold, with a steel gripped slide and a heart of gold, he struck one chord and the royals fled Crew: ‘’He scared the crown clean off their head!’’ His lyrics cracked like a cannon’s roar, his riffs could rattl...

🦩 The Tee‑Shirt Exchange on a Park Bench at Midnight   Faithfully distorted by the Nonsense Chronicler Pink Flamingo Midnight is the hour when sensible creatures sleep and I, Pink Flamingo, clock in for my shift as Chronicler of Dubious Events. The moon was doing its best impression of a dim streetlamp, and the park bench—paint peeling, slightly lopsided—waited like a witness who’d already seen too much. Two humans approached from opposite directions, illuminated only by the glow of their phones and the occasional moth with ambition. Each carried a folded tee shirt, held with the reverence of monks transporting relics or perhaps just people who didn’t want to drop them in the damp grass. They sat.   Not together, of course. Humans never sit together first. They sat adjacent, which is the prelude to all important negotiations. A fox trotted past, glanced at them, and decided they were up to something too weird even for foxes. Then came the moment. With the solemnity ...

Here’s to Port & Dayo  A Ramble in Rhyme Port and Dayo, now that’s a pair, Stride through Wales without a care. Intrepid walkers, rain or shine, Every hill says, “These two are mine.” From mossy lanes to craggy heights, They roam the land like woodland sprites. Every nook and cranny knows Their laughter drifting as it goes. Forever young, now that’s not a claim, It’s simply how they play their game. Hearts wide open, spirits so free, Powered by love and good company. And when the day’s long trek is through, They tune their souls to something true A riff, a beat, a royal groove The mighty Maharaja Blues. So here’s to Port and Dayo dear, The loveliest couple far and near. May music, mischief, and Welsh skies Keep lighting up their wandering lives. Photo at Great Beech, Pontypool. This is a pillar triangulation station, at a height of 174. It was levelled in 01/06/1969 🌞 Attire: Maharaja Blues tee shirts:  maharajablues.teemill.com Follow their walking adventures on:  P...