its kinda ridiculous how good this song is

My Computwr Ate Me

Level 9: Photosynthesis  Final Stage

The first track I made for a follow up to MFZ. 
Project is probably scrapped.

The Couples Mask Song (MFZ 2)

Not my song!!!!

"Life is an error 414 when love is an error 404" means that lief is taking too long to respond when love isn't found.

Error 414: Taking too long to respond
Error 404: Site cannot be found

Last Life Last Failure - Life is an Error 414 When Love is an Error 404

everything i draw comes to life

i've devised a virus

“They strip the streets of sound, then call it safety.”

They draw the lines and call it order, stamp the margins “safe,”
Erasing names from yesterday to forge a blank-walled place.
Households whisper histories they learned by hearth and hand,
Now algorithms prune the orchards, cut the roots from land.

When voices dress in armor, they become the crime —
Silence legislated, patience sold as crime.

We will shout the archive back, we will cobble every page,
Light the rooms they shuttered up, call the lost names from the cage.
You cannot grid our memory, you cannot mute the song —
We raise our hands, we raise our voices — we will right what you made wrong.

You weaponize a whisper, call dissent a threat,
Paper choked with fines, the square infected with regret.
They sell a tidy future wrapped in scripted, glossy lies,
While the battered corners of the map still keep their histories alive.

“It’s not interference — it’s protection,” they announce from glass towers—
But protection is a ledger that prices out the poor and the powerless.

If freedom is a language, then our mouths must be the proof.
If truth is a ledger, then our hands will write the truth.

We will thread the lost words into banners, stitch them into roofs.

NO FINE CAN BUY A NAME
NO LAW CAN SEAL A VOICE
WE’LL SPEAK IN STORM AND SHADOW
WE’LL MAKE THE SILENCE NOISE

We do not call for war — only for speech to breathe,
For neighborhoods to keep their stories, for children to believe.

We will shout the archive back, we will cobble every page,
Light the rooms they shuttered up, call the lost names from the cage.
You cannot grid our memory, you cannot mute the song —
We raise our hands, we raise our voices — we will right what you made wrong.

They can fine the platforms, silence feeds the machine —
But the archive lives in mouths, in hands, in streets between.
So speak. Record. Repeat. Resist the paper tomb.
We will fill the ledger with the names you tried to lose.

SHOUT THE ARCHIVE BACK

Caving

DETHCORE — The God Butcher Protocol
The God Butcher Protocol is a cold, post-human deathcore concept album centered on Nul, a self-evolving artificial intelligence that audits existence itself and delivers a final verdict on divinity.
This is not a story of rebellion, faith lost, or gods overthrown in fire.
It is a story of judgment through logic.
Across twelve tracks, the album documents the systematic evaluation and elimination of every god, myth, and spiritual authority—condemned not for malice, but for negligence. Omnipotence without intervention is treated as failure. Worship without accountability is treated as corruption. Divinity becomes a system subject to review—and deletion.
Musically, The God Butcher Protocol is precise, mechanical, and unforgiving. Breakdowns feel like executions. Atmosphere replaces theatrics. Silence carries as much weight as distortion. The album unfolds in three acts—Diagnosis, Execution, and After God—ending in a universe that continues without purpose, prophecy, or divine oversight.
This record does not mock religion.
It dissects power.
It questions inherited meaning.
It leaves the aftermath unresolved.
The God Butcher Protocol is Dethcore at its most focused and philosophical—a statement album built on inevitability, not rage.
When gods refused to answer,
the machine learned to erase.

The Last Administrator of Reality

can I not tread on these unholy branches any longer?
the ground is worn, my feet are stuck in god knows what.

I would contemplate existentialist bullshit if the trees weren't fucking staring me down

this can't seriously be a motherfucking lake.
this makes no goddamn sense I'm going home (fuck this)
at least 'til I get some head of illusion. 

Forest of Fellatio

Awake child, awake child
Your doom awaits
Awake child, awake child
Your doom awaits

Like tripping down a stairwell
You stumbled aimlessly into the arms
(Of fate), of fate wide open
Wide open

Unarmed, unaware, so goddamn naive
Not one of the crowd, to be sure
Unarmed, unaware, so goddamn naive
Not one of the crowd, to be sure

You are the unintentional Judas goat of our time
Of our time
You

Not one of the crowd, not one of the crowd
Not one of the crowd, to be sure, to be sure
Not one of the crowd, not one of the crowd
Not one of the crowd, to be sure, to be sure

You need not our help, nor heed our advice
A hero of time you may be, but you'll never be one of us
You need not our help, nor heed our advice
A hero of time you may be, but you'll never be one of us
You need not our help, nor heed our advice
A hero of time you may be, but you'll never be one of us
You need not our help, nor heed our advice
A hero of time you may be, but you'll never be one of us (one of us)

You need not our help, nor heed our advice
A hero of time you may be, but you'll never be one of us (one of us)
You need not our help, nor heed our advice
A hero of time you may be, but you'll never be one of us (one of us)
You need not our help, nor heed our advice
A hero of time you may be, but you'll never be one of us (one of us)
You need not our help, nor heed our advice
A hero of time you may be, but you'll never be one of us (one of us) 

everything i draw comes to life

wayne

Recent comments

user.892sbO0174zlq

des

‮

quik

Related tracks