Snake's Valley

They said: "Do something useful"
But here I am
with a riff in my head
and ink on my hands
No empire
Just melody
No profit.
Just... silly poetry

I made a list of things to do
Then danced around it barefoot
Built a castle out of emails
Let the inbox burn for good

Tried to solve the meaning of
A sigh, a glance, a rhyme
But all I found was stardust
In the pockets of my time

So I sang instead of planning
Laughed instead of proof
Held a note too long and let it
Run away with truth
If life's a test, I missed it
If it's a climb, I mimed
What a glorious waste of time!
What a glorious waste of time!

I mapped my fears in fractals
Tried to quantify delight
Filed my heartbreaks alphabetically
But love refused to write

I traced my flaws in mirror fog
Then waved as they dissolved
Turns out you don't fix everything
some things you just evolve

So I danced instead of doubting
Slept in past my prime
Broke a rule by being kind
And called it paradigm
If joy's an act of treason
Then charge me with the crime
What a glorious waste of time!
What a glorious waste of time!

I tuned the world in minor thirds
Composed in coffee stains
Wrote symphonies on napkins
And cried on midnight trains

They built machines to conquer time
I gave mine to a song
And found a kind of forever
In what didn't last too long

We lived like flawed equations
But hummed in perfect rhyme
Built cathedrals out of chaos
And stained glass out of slime
We made it to the ending
with nothing left to prove
but everything to claim
What a glorious waste of time!
What a glorious waste of time!

Glorious Waste of Time

Electrons Edge

   Smooth and Chill breakbeat to ease you into the night...

GOOD EVENING.wav

🎸 DEAD AIR — the NEW punk-rock nuclear detonation from Zakk Riffle x My Killbox.

An adrenaline-soaked, anti-authoritarian scream into the void of modern-day surveillance, silence, and state-sponsored coverups. This is not for the soft-spoken. This is the soundtrack of the ungovernable.

Built for rebels. Engineered by outlaws. Mixed to break the feed.

👁️‍🗨️ EPSTEIN DIDN’T KILL HIMSELF
Let’s be brutally honest: If you’re still clinging to the fairy tale, you’re the problem.
A billionaire child trafficker with decades of blackmail material, protected by elites, politicians, and the alphabet boys — just happened to off himself in a federal prison during a high-profile investigation… with no guards watching… cameras malfunctioning… cellmate removed… autopsy contradicting the official story… and no client list ever released?

Nah. Miss us with that.

“DEAD AIR” is not just a song — it’s feedback from the wiretap, buzz from the bug in your wall, the static you hear when truth gets jammed.
It’s what happens when you know too much, and still don’t shut up.

streaming everywhere: https://hypeddit.com/zakkrifflemykill...

🎤 CREDITS:

Vocals/Guitar/Engineer: Zakk Riffle
Drums/Destruction: My Killbox
Produced in secrecy. Mixed for war. Mastered for fallout.
Genre: Punk Rock / Alternative / Anti-Establishment Rock / Fuck-The-System Music

DEAD AIR

Submission for Weekly Note Composing Jam #28 hosted by emscottish for Itch.IO August 2025, the text prompt for the jam was simply "The Desert"

The first track of Mъdrъ / Mudru draft album

It's titled Part II but only about 5% is from before, to stay within the Jam's rules.

but if you -must- know, Part I is Release CCVI (#206) from December 2023 on DoDeka album twenty albums ago.
https://soundcloud.com/doug-stoothoff/stutterin-bob-dropped-the-rocket-launcher

https://soundcloud.com/doug-stoothoff/sets/duodeka

Stutterin' Bob Dropped The Rocket Launcher Pt. II

The Endless
Groove Score

Sci-Fi influenced.

The Endless

Prima Donna

You were chasing fame from an early age
From the very first moment you stepped onto the stage
Child prodigy ego to match
But you’re treating people with contempt 

Can’t do that
Can’t do that

You made enemies not caring how they feel
Sacrificed agents when you got a better deal
Hired and fired backing groups just on a whim
You’re skating on thin ice 
Be prepared to fall in

Hope you can swim
Or else you’re going to drown
 
Earnt yourself the reputation of a prima donna
Expecting everybody to bow down in your honour
You’ve become too hot to handle
Burning both ends of the candle 

Yeah you sure have
Acting like a diva’s only going to end up in flames 

You became a victim of your own success
Took liberties drugs and drank to excess
Slowly lost touch with reality
Your daddy would have turned in his grave 
If he could see
Definitely

You’ve earnt yourself the reputation of a prima donna
Expecting everybody to bow down in your honour
You’ve become too hot to handle
Burning both ends of the candle 

The knives are out 
And I think you’re gonna find that it’s a shame

Not sure right now where you go from here
Noticed in your eyes an element of fear
You’re looking very nervous are you going to crack
Too late now for you to try to retract 

Watch your back
You became too hot to handle
You’ve burnt both ends of the candle
Acting like a diva has finally sparked off those flames
That’s what comes from chasing fame
Only yourself to blame

Lyrics by Bobby Lincoln

Prima Donna

Beast ( Bees Knees )

THE BUNKER

Verse 1
I scroll through faces in the dark,
Empty smiles, no beating hearts.
Everyone’s a ghost behind their screen,
Perfect lies in pictures we’ve seen.

Pre-Chorus
But I’m still holding out for something true,
Searching the crowd, just to find you.

Chorus
Is there anyone real left in this world?
Someone who bleeds, someone who hurts.
Not afraid to break, not afraid to feel—
Tell me, is there anyone real?

Verse 2
Every word feels like a game,
People change but stay the same.
Promises that vanish in the rain,
Chasing love just brings the pain.

Pre-Chorus
But I won’t let the silence take my voice,
I still believe that we’ve got a choice.

Chorus
Is there anyone real left in this world?
Someone who bleeds, someone who hurts.
Not afraid to break, not afraid to feel—
Tell me, is there anyone real?

Bridge
Underneath the masks we wear,
I know there’s someone out there.
A heart that beats like mine tonight,
Fighting just to hold the light.

Final Chorus
Is there anyone real left in this world?
Someone to love, someone to trust.
Not afraid to break, not afraid to heal—
Tell me, is there anyone real?

Glorious Waste of Time

Axioms of Mediocrity