Marc CeccottiA breeze blowing in God’s mind
Electric Guitar Instrumental HyperLink
/uploads2/18819_7_8_2020_5_44_49_PM_-_2M 11 05 2020    160.jpg
song created                                

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
song updated                               

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
stations playing this song              
Nice Sensations
INDIE SPIRIT
Music Lovers
@ Blues Rock
Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 4
IndieMusicPeople

 















From the Album : Araboth's doors - 2011

Composed, arranged, performed, recorded & Produced by : Marc Ceccotti
Art photo Cover By : Lauren Ceccotti

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Song Comments

INDIE SPIRIT
Following a course musical passer-by the academy of music of Monaco then a collaboration with the conservatory of jazz of Monaco, Marc Ceccotti creates the group of rock neo - progressive EDHELS, of which he is composer and guitarist; EDHELS is mentioned repeatedly in a published encyclopedia by the University Oxford of New York under the Rocking title ' The Classics English progressive rock and the counter - culture '. Marc Ceccotti achieves albums solo and several musics in the same way for TVs and Radios. 2006 Best song Guitar instrumental Golden KAYAK Winner. Golden Kayak nominee - Best Male Artist


@ Blues Rock
This one blows some riff's over a cool bassy rock rooted melody.


Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 4
I'd know you anywhere, Declaney, let me truthfully tell you in or out of the lexinction of life and who the hell else, be your blanche patch on the boney part! Goalball I've struck this daylit dielate night of nights, by golly! My hat, you have some bully German grit, sundowner! He spud in his faust (axin); he toped the raw best (pardun); he poked his pick (a tip is a tap): and he tucked his friend's leave. And, with French hen or the portlifowlium of hastes and leisures, about to continue that, the queer mixture exchanged the pax in embrace or poghue puxy as practised between brothers of the same breast, hillelulia, killelulia, allenalaw, and, having ratified before the god of the day their torgantruce which belittlers have schmall- kalled the treatyng to cognac, turning his fez menialstrait in the direction of Moscas, he first got rid of a few mitsmillers and hurooshoos and levanted off with tubular jurbulance at a bull's run over the assback bridge, spitting his teeths on rooths, with the seven and four in danegeld and their humoral hurlbat or other uncertain weapon of lignum vitae, but so evermore rhumanasant of a toboggan poop, picked up to keep some crowplucking ap- pointment with some rival rialtos anywheres between Pearidge and the Littlehorn while this poor delaney, who they left along with the confederate fender behind


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