Read a great Review of It's About Time at The Muse's Muse

Read a new interview with journalist Michael Manning:
part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Read a fantastic CD REVIEW and INTERVIEW
Read this Bud Buckley interview with Kid Mercury's ActoGuitar Blog. HERE
Read this Bud Buckley interview with Journalist Michael Manning. HERE
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Friday, September 09, 2005

My Song About Hunter S. Thompson?

UPDATE: Here is the song mentioned below. Click to listen FrozenShadows4.2MP3.mp3

The news that Hunter S. Thomnpson left the following suicide note shocked me quite a bit. This according to Reuters:

The brief message, scrawled in black marker and titled "Football Season Is Over" (an apparent reference to the end of the NFL season he avidly followed as fan), reads as follows:

"No More Games. No More bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun -- for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax -- This won't hurt."

New York Snow Storm The photo is a typical NY snow storm from my old home in Rhinebeck, NY. I wrote the following words to my song "Frozen Shadows" right around that time and reflected in the first line on the absense of football that I noticed depressing some of my northerly friends. He could have added this lyric to his note, I think. If they do a movie, I'm submitting this song. I'll put the music up here as soon as I can recover it from my audio drive:

Frozen Shadows
Copyright 2005 by Bud Buckley

Deep winter bruises after all the games, no flames distract me from my fear
No warm passion and delicious hopes have simply disappeared
Crunch of frozen mud under my boots, tires spraying salty sand
You're too far gone to come on home, frozen shadows cross the land

Frozen shadows invade my soul
Frozen shadows make harsh demand
Frozen shadows rot my heart so old
Frozen shadows cross the land Frozen shadows cross the land

You don't even remember where home is, not even on your map
You're off hunting loathsome alien game, I'm bloody and dying in your trap
You could thrash and stumble right over me, step right on my hand
Not even know I'm suffering so, under your frozen shadow 'cross the land


How much longer can this last, before the sun gives me mercy?
How much cold and loneliness is considered perverse and heresy?
Isn't everything on earth supposed to come again to every man?
It's just so damn hard to smile and love with your frozen shadow 'cross the land

posted by Bud @ 5:09 AM

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