The Orb - Spanish Castles in Space (Edit)

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  • Опубликовано: 11 дек 2024

Комментарии • 14

  • @loundsleygreenman4763
    @loundsleygreenman4763 4 года назад +7

    A master stroke - always felt the standard version was bit too short-thanks

  • @pumpkin6429
    @pumpkin6429 5 лет назад +11

    Fookin'

  • @mr.bloodvessel260
    @mr.bloodvessel260 5 лет назад +3

    Oh this gets me there!

  • @treymendus
    @treymendus 5 лет назад +2

    Hadn't heard this one from the orb...so ambient, thanks 👍🙌😎

  • @OrbvsTomarvm
    @OrbvsTomarvm 3 года назад +1

    lush picture.

  • @habichiblah7534
    @habichiblah7534 2 года назад

    so good

  • @Ali-db7zr
    @Ali-db7zr 5 лет назад +1

    👍👍👍👍

  • @franzhaas6889
    @franzhaas6889 5 лет назад +1

    YOUR CHANNEL IS AMAZING.
    JUST CURIOUS, WHY DELETE
    SO MANY COMMENTS? PEACE.

    • @akshobhyabuddha9894
      @akshobhyabuddha9894  5 лет назад +3

      so many? just few inappropriate.

    • @franzhaas6889
      @franzhaas6889 5 лет назад

      @@akshobhyabuddha9894 NO HARD FEELINGS. YOUR STILL AWSOME!
      PEACE.

  • @franzhaas6889
    @franzhaas6889 5 лет назад

    TO THE WET LANDS
    I SING.
    A WOODED BOAT
    SPARED BY A TIMELESS
    FREIND.
    PUSHING THREW
    THE MUCK AND MORNING
    DEW.
    SWEET SONGBIRDS SING
    SALLY SONG.
    FLYING
    NO
    DYING
    BLUE.
    KISS ME SPIRIT TREE LOVE.
    FOR THE GREEN LEAFS GRAB
    ME TENDERLY.
    ABOVE
    BELOW EMBERS REFLEXION
    GO.
    MY NAIVE AND WONDERING
    EYE , WATERS PUSHED
    WITH ANTICIPATION
    OBULATION
    MOST SLOW.

    • @isaiahh3754
      @isaiahh3754 4 года назад +1

      To the wet lands
      I do sing.
      A wooden boat, spared by a timeless friends.
      Pushing threw the muck and much dew of mornings.
      Sweet songbirds sing lovely tunes of freedom.
      Flying, living, laughing, dying,
      Kiss me, Spirit of the Tree,
      Tree of love and all beauty.
      For the green leafs grab
      Me tenderly.
      Above the freshest waters glean.
      Below embers reflection goes through.
      All and with the morning dew.
      My naive and wondering eyes,
      Presented with waters pushed with anticipation.
      Tender appreciation,
      For the sights around.
      Most slow.
      Most Calm.
      Most gentle sound.
      Of trees and birds with grass and sky,
      Dripping blue and white up high.
      I row upon the small of water,
      Collecting twigs and leaves.
      I see the thing given by nature,
      I breath the goodness it all brings.
      For when you are at utmost