this is track number five on the Album ingested hatemore

Around the time that I composed this track, I was infatuated with a beautiful Latina who worked in a local thrift shop. She was always accompanied with her sister.. I would drop by and try to impress her with my Spanish. She was young, but had dyed her hair a silverish gray. She looked exotic, "like the angel of death," I used to think. I began to fantasize the Angel of Death as a beautiful young woman. During this same time I was engrossed with "The Pacific." At the start of each episode a French horn would play. As a war series, there was always the spectre of death, but of heroism too. I envisioned the French horn as a poignant salute to fallen heroes as they were being lifted from the battlefield by the Valkyrie. But are we not all heroes... just to have struggled and endured the pain of this life? Do we not all deserve a French horn salute at the end of this life?? This track was initially inspired by it's opening guitar play. Here I had progressed to picking strings instead of my usual reliance on simply strumming cowboy chords. It's the best I was playing before rheumatoid arthritis began it's attack on my body. (This was five years ago.) And it's one of the last songs I wrote. God knows, I wish I could have kept playing. I found the opening to be quite melancholy. While playing it, I initially envisioned a setting sun casting a red light and long shadows in a graveyard. Then I met the young lady at the thrift shop. Then I started watching the "Pacific". And isn't it interesting how songwriting is so similar to our nightly dreams, where our recent experiences are regurgitated... We tried to embue this track with an ethereal quality via it's production. Hopefully, a few of you will actually like it. more