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The Journey

by Sinclair Soul

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San Anton 04:40
If you see my oldest brother Out upon the checkered, fruited plain Please reveal that I'm still living, loving merciful And giving all the wisdom I obtain If there are secrets to charisma My well-paid alchemists have not revealed To convey just what is and what is not Is the paradox upon which I must deal It's just a part of the deal In the shadows of the statues Carved in solid rock three thousand years I’ll declare that I'm still living, loving merciful Through blood, perspiration and tears No one told me that the journey Would be more frictional than be smooth And so I drudge on through the thicked brush In a slightly panicked rush to execute all I need to do It’s all I have to do, to see this whole thing through Inspiration is for amateurs The professional gets to work right away To change direction while the journey’s good, Makes it understood, the cost of agony You lose for good the moss of apathy Eventually we all pass by this way And it’s a magical day Revelations through a richer light Escape the common night And burn the blues away You cherish sign posts on the winding road Embracing new and old and wisdom of the few The burning signs and silent purviews Prudence is a cardinal virtue It all comes down to what you really do What now will you do? If you see my oldest brother Please tell him to give me a call
Good Friday 07:48
An excruciating dose of harsh reality On this dreary, dark, cold March afternoon A respectable chunk of my personality Dissolves to dust within the writing room I summon the ghost of the ancient one Her name is on the tip of my tongue And brace for a sharp ratiocination But unmercifully that blow never comes (So while I’m) dancing on the head of a stick (Awaiting your) distinction between “Joe Hero” and “Jack Convict” (I’ll fight the) urge to quench the thirst of our ancestor’s cravings By not behaving so burned and conned As my illusion of grandeur slowly crashes One underlying discourse starts within Will today’s holy palms become the ashes- That’ll accompany tomorrow’s changing hymns? And so that brings us to Good Friday, “We both knew this day would someday come” Although fasting from meat may make you hungry I never would have believed you’d eat your young (In a room off) pothole infested roads we would play (Those relative) games of black and white and shades of gray (While fueling) the urge to fill the void in our ancestor’s yearnings Without concerning this new paragon Forsaken descendants, mechanical offspring You’ll never have children While the burden consumes you Forsaken ancestry: Tear down the Temple wall! Firebomb the pyramids! Level the twin towers then run! But no one reminds me like you do Of the ideals and ambitions that have been lost All those naïve conclusions where we’d arrive, fooled That all the best things in life must harbor cost And so we return to Good Friday A verge that we’ve expected all the while? Can either of us see beyond today? May Saturday’s dawn yet be compiled? (Harmoniously) singing the songs of yesterday (In an attempt to) fabricate the verbal games we’d play (Our aria) is composed of tunes of our ancestor’s likeness- Too polite to seize our day - carpe diem! I want it all and I want it right now! Forsaken opportunity, situation unforeseen, You never did prepare for this day as reality Forsaken opportunity: Tear down the fortress walls! Back-fill your foxhole! Good Friday has come and now has gone!
Believe 04:17
So what’s the point of quiet charity If it won’t get you the gig? They don’t forgive irregularities Just because your heart is big And why leave home with an atlas stone, When a flask of pebbles might do? This quite excessive sense of diligence Offends my reasoned confidence in you… I do my best to view the world from deep behind these eyes I draw my energy from sources not simply surmised But what’s the point of simple clarity, In such a complex universe? Should we not strive towards more parity By ripping out the contents of your purse? I steer my ship by ancient stars and hold the wind with poise I grasp at every passing wave in a quest to find pure joys Believe, believe Believe, believe So what’s the point of quiet charity, If you don’t bag some esteem? Complied reduction of this narrowly sliced time Just seems obscene And who would roam with an atlas stone, When there are so many sights to see? What’s the point of true contention, When the scientific evidence has been decreed? I beat my path with head held high and wisdom at my heels I don’t pretend to know that this is how we all should feel Believe, believe Believe, believe In a pinch and you’re on the run, will you come undone? If it’s a cinch just to follow the sun, Why then fear of this unusual one?
Found Love 03:22
I stared out at the sea, horizons of infinity And wondered if it could possibly be enough The visions of the day would quickly melt away Without the prospect of a found love I’m rocking on my swing and contemplating everything ‘Til I decide to spread my wings and soar A sweet and unexpected Opportunity rapped at my door And I found love The rivers flow to the sea, the confluence of eternity Reflective personalities in the tide And though we tread upon slippery rocks And fear the ever-ticking clocks We never break our stride, side by side I gazed out at the field And I saw the lion gathering his yield And we gave each other nods of mutual respect Sometimes this world gives you More than you initially expect, a found love So fine to help each other climb, In anticipation of what we’ll find When we reach above A wonderful display, a vivid palette each and every day Our found love
Lost in the wilderness, the forest through the trees All merge to emptiness as I am brought down to my knees I pause for just a sec to let the world spin round To reveal some open trek Leading to tame, tended ground But I’m still alive – yes, I’m still alive Shrouded in bitterness, I’ll crawl out of this wilderness and try Counter, diverging paths, I’m forced to make a choice Contend this demon’s wrath or let it silence my voice No doubt I’ve done my slice to bring this on myself But that pittance won’t justify This rapid draining of health But I’m still alive – But will I survive? Biased towards happiness, I’ll carve my creed in righteousness and pray... Exoneration for squandering The precious dawn of the Day… That priceless jewel confined by it’s peripheral fuel Any day can come the call to raze the walls And suddenly be shown all that’s beyond Knowing all that is gone, Blown, pried from it’s bond On the way home Who leaves familiar farms, swan dives into the sea Of vast transcendent charms, of vast uncertainty? He who keeps it alive – the dream that survives Drafted towards openness Can almost feel the sweet caress of the sky... That boundless cool, clad baby blue Never seeming too hard to fly… With wounded wings. ever sharpening Will tomorrow bring just one more try? To feel the pulse, to forge the ghosts, To make the most and show just what can be And know what it is like to be free And grow into the predestined me And flow in distinguished harmony All the way home
I still remember how she chased me around The first time that I walked across her floor And I ran and I ran but she persisted behind Until I could not run no more She disclosed most earnestly, a galactic anomaly Of how the laws of physics won’t apply to me So disregarding any costs, I charged forward, fingers crossed Feeling the quest was meant to be But what more could we expect when we have got a slanted deck An heirloom based on fables that aren’t true Give an honest man such power And sooner or later it will turn sour As darker demons are let loose Between reposeful sips of juice Every once in a while there is a hint of a smile And a feeling that something may be new But where is the justice for a sincere soul? What is a man supposed to do? What is a man supposed to do? We often spoke of valiant days When we would bounce from shore to shore, On an everlasting quest to find some truth Until one bitter one in May when we opened up that door And felt reality’s sharp tooth Now all that we can do to keep our heads on fire Is to conjure up a bigger dose So we talk to the walls and wait for coveted calls Until the time gets much too close The wrath of some ancient ghost Every once in a while there’ll be a moment of denial That there’s nothing beyond our simple zoo Until the cultivated soul receives his moment of trial… What is a man supposed to do? What is a man supposed to do? Designed to be a born a poor, pathetic fool Just what is a man supposed to do? Oh, I’m such a fool, waiting here in February Waiting on the sun, oh is it ever gonna come?
Try Again 02:32
I’ll try again to build a house that is stronger Fortify the bonds a little longer And reflect more on all things From the conversations that I bring through the songs that I sing I want to improve everything I’ll try again to keep the world a-grooving Stability through the scenes that are moving And to do more perfect deeds Provide for the implicit needs And heal the wounds when they bleed On this I shall succeed Although the intensity could get mad There is no doubt that these are the best days I’ve ever had And I just want to be a good Dad I’ll try again to make the moments brighter From those serious to those which are lighter And give it everything I have Through the good times and the bad I want to be a good Dad


The Journey is the 2017 debut album by Sinclair Soul. It features seven eclectic pop/rock tracks with philosophical lyrics that touch on the social, spiritual and personal.


released June 26, 2017

Produced by Bret Alexander and Ric Albano
Recorded, mixed and mastered in Pennsylvania at Saturation Acres and Cygnus Wave recording studios, Spring 2017
Cover photo by Karyn Albano

Ric Albano - lead vocals, acoustic guitar, bass, piano, keyboards
Bret Alexander - electric and slide guitars, mandolin, bass, keyboards
Ron Simasek - drums, percussion

Janet Rains - backing vocal on "Believe"
Erik Trabert - lead guitar on "The Last Day of February"

All songs composed and arranged by Ric Albano
© 2002-2017 Ric Albano and Cygnus Wave Records


all rights reserved



Sinclair Soul Harrisburg, Pennsylvania

Sinclair Soul is an original rock and roll project of producer and composer Ric Albano. along with guitarist Bret Alexander and drummer Ron Simasek. The music is a diverse breath of rock influenced from the classic era with a modern twist. Plans are currently underway for a new recording project of original material later on 2018. ... more

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