Verse 1:
In a rut and nobody cares
So tired of climbing up all these stairs
But I know I gotta get up

But when I jump up I fall down
And my head is spinning around
But I know still gotta get up

Chorus:
Run faster than they can
Everybody wants every piece of me in great demand
Push through the sinking sand
There is nothing I have left to give but take my hand

Verse 2:
Everywhere that I can turn
I can feel that the sun still burns
Everyday I gotta get up

There’s no limit to the sky
Why should there be with you and I
If we rise we’re gonna get up

Chorus:
Run faster than they can
Everybody wants every piece of me in great demand
Push through the sinking sand
There is nothing I have left to give but take my hand

Run Faster Than They Can

Beat idea no.3

RAPTOR ft CELLOPHANE  pop orchestral  experimental whit hardcore bass drums…SHALL WE WALK TOGETHER ?

WALK  ALONE

Six months. Six damned months in which I carried every little lie I told myself with a broad smile. "I feel so good!" I'd say, "No more smoking! What a liberation! I'm a new person!" And everyone nodded. My friends, my colleagues, even the guy from the bakery. They nodded and cheered me on like you'd cheer for a marathon runner who looked like he was about to throw up.

I'm lying. I don't feel good at all. I feel like a bucket of misery into which someone secretly stuffed a pile of wet newspapers. I'm not liberated, I've gone to jail. For six months now, I've been in nicotine quarantine, and my clothes no longer smell like an ashtray, but like... nothing. I'm not sleeping any better; I dream about cigarettes. Over and over again. About that first hit in the morning, that little nicotine rocket that catapults you into happiness. About the glowing end that looks like a small, timid light at the end of the tunnel.

I've gained over nine pounds. Nine pounds! In just six months! My belly now hangs over my belt like a sad pancake. My pants are tighter than the zipper on an overstuffed suitcase. I look like the Michelin Man who's had the air sucked out of him. And the dating experience? I wonder what my last date thought when I plopped down on the sofa like it were a mattress. She probably thought, "Oh, a new mattress trend."

At first, I thought I was a hero. I was lecturing smokers. I raised my fingers and said, "I can promise you, addiction is a killer." And then, secretly, I turned around and imagined myself opening a pack, lighting a cigarette, feeling the fire, taking a deep breath, and my brain exploding with joy. Like an orgasm, only better because it never ends.

And now I'm sitting here in a smoker’s bar. My buddy smokes. He smokes two packs a day. And I hate him for it. I hate him because he can do what I can't. I hate him because he feels the happiness I long for. I just told him to stop before it's too late. He just laughed and said, "Man, I'm the one having fun here, you're the one destroying yourself." And he's right. I'm a hermit, a sad, lonely recluse who made his own rules and now tortures himself. I've backed myself into a corner from which there's no escape. And the thought that I have to give up, that I could reach out and ask for a cigarette, is so tempting. Just a little puff. A little orgasm. Just a little bit of happiness.


Six months and not a single cigarette, you know
They said it would be easy, a hero's show
My clothes don't stink of ashtrays anymore
I sleep a little better, or so I swore
I talk to everyone about my brand new life
But deep inside, I'm cuttin' with a mental knife

Oh, nicotine, my sweet, sweet sin
Let me take you in, let me start again
One little puff, a glorious high
Oh, nicotine, my sweet goodbye

I told myself I'm free from all that poison's hold
A new beginning, a story to be told
But nine pounds heavier, my belt won't close
All the single ladies now turn up their nose
I used to hate the smell, but now I miss it, man
The little white stick that holds my world in its hand

Oh, nicotine, my sweet, sweet sin
Let me take you in, let me start again
One little puff, a glorious high
Oh, nicotine, my sweet goodbye

They say I'm strong, a man of pure resolve’
They praise my strength while my own life dissolves
But what's the point of smelling fresh and clean
If you can't find a partner, so fat and mean?
I see my friends all puffing, laughing at my face
I feel like a loser lost in time and space

Oh, nicotine, my sweet, sweet sin 
Let me take you in, it's a hello again 
One little puff, a glorious high 
It's not a goodbye, just a sweet hello. Again.

—
Arrangement and vocals: Volker Redder, Udio, GarageBand
Loops and samples: Volker Redder, GarageBand
Editing and sound design: Volker Redder, Ozone 11, Sound Studio, GarageBand
Lyrics: Volker Redder, translated with the help of Google Translate
Cover design: Volker Redder, Photoshop, DALL-E 3

My Sweet Sin

Another Remix with the Fantstic Voice of  Conor Maynard
Recorded with Studio FL
Remixed by @delangio
Enjoy and Saluti @delangio

Dark Side of Life Remix With Conor Maynard-Delangio

Ride with me to Galveston
with the windows rolled down
Ride with me to Galveston
with the windows rolled down
Ride with me to Galveston
let's leave this town

we are going
we are going to
have families of our own
we all know
we all know it
that this is the last hurrah
we are going 
to have families of our own

ride with me to Galveston
with the windows rolled down
ride with me to Galveston
with the windows rolled down
ride with me to Galveston
let's leave this town

Galveston

River Music

Little collab with a great guitarist https://soundcloud.com/crackpanther

Wartsnall 8 [feat. Dr. Zwakkus on Drums]

A new version of my original Better World song.  In collaboration with Morten Jeamland. 

Vocals & backing vocals by Heidi K
Lyrics by Heidi K

Production by @mortenjeamland

Cover photo: Heidi K

Better World (new version)

Better World (new version) - Jeamland & Heidi K

What a boring collab - Rhino Jooos and Marcin Man

Rift of Deceit

I've been producing music for a while but never put it online before. I'll be adding tracks every few days, starting with the older material first... it's a schitzo mixture of apocalyptic metal, cosmic horror and introspective real life stuff across a variety of music genres and styles

Rift of Deceit

AiMee Pickman

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