The Gold, It’s In The…

This song is a Pink Floyd song that we did. This one isn’t very well known, except by the most hardcore Floyd connoisseurs. The tune is from an album entitled More, which was the soundtrack to an even more obscure movie by the same name.

Recorded live by Magus & The Plastic Infinity, at a club in Wilmington, NC.

Trent Boswell – guitar, vocals

Skip Eames – drums

David Fleet – bass


Lyrics

Come on, my friends, let’s make for the hills
They say there’s gold but I’m looking for thrills
You can get your hands on whatever we find,
Because I’m only coming along for the ride

Well, you go your way, I’ll go mine
I don’t care if we get there on time
Everybody’s searching for something, they say
I’ll get my kicks on the way

Over the mountains, across the sea
Who knows what will be waiting for me?
I could sail forever to strange sounding names
Faces of people and places don’t change

All I have to do is just close my eyes
To see the seagulls wheeling
In those far distant skies
All I want to tell you, all I want to say
Is count me in on the journey,
Don’t expect me to stay


Music and lyrics written by Pink Floyd (Roger Waters, David Gilmour, Nick Mason and Richard Wright). All rights to the song belong to someone else, someone really, really rich.


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Into the Fold

Music video for “Into the Fold”. Song was recorded live by Magus & The Plastic Infinity, at a club in Wilmington, NC.

Guitar and vocals by Trent Boswell. All music and lyrics written by Trent Boswell.

Lyrics:

Into the Fold

Please bring me into the fold
I long for warmth from cold
I can’t seem to bear the load
And my anger like a stone

I’ve been let down again
They slip right in and call me friend
Lunged at again
I’d prefer another end

Before they leave, you know they lie
Infiltrate and try
To burn my hopes alive;
Cast my dreams aside

I need myself a family
That can protect; I cannot feed
The one I have is so in need

You see the way the story goes
The king is allergic to his clothes
The tragedy is known; it shows

I’ve no idea to ride
The coattails of another’s pride
But if it were to mean my hide
Suppose I’d give it half a try

It has come to seem to me
That the mafioso creed
Is a safe bet when in need
Of a haven in which to bleed

She will kiss and he will crunch
Her kiss hurts more, packs more punch
Unfortunately, not a hunch;
It’s all out to lunch

I need myself a family
That can protect; I cannot feed
The one I have is so in need

© 2021 Kevin Trent Boswell


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