Bchwaya Nikhfi

Dean Lewis- With You (Ryu Ferdinand Remix)

A heartbreaking digital tragedy unfolds in This Is Buffering — a satirical pop ballad that turns every internet user’s worst nightmare into a cinematic breakdown. With emotional piano, sweeping orchestral swells, and tear-soaked vocals, this track transforms a spinning wheel into a symbol of despair. Vulnerable verses pull you in, only for epic, choir-backed choruses to crush your soul with every failed load. Whether you've lost your stream or your sanity, this song gets it. It's not just buffering — it's suffering.

Lyrics:

I was ready for the moment
Blanket wrapped, warm cup of tea
The lights were low, the tale was slow
Then it rose to meet its peak with me

But the screen just froze in silence
Spinning wheel took center stage
Right before they kissed—or died—
The climax vanished from the page

All I wanted was escape
Now I stare at static fate

This is buffering
And I’m suffering
Caught in loading's cruel embrace
Wi-Fi laughing in my face

This is buffering
Tears are fluttering
It was just getting good
But the cosmos said I never could

I refreshed at least five times
Screamed into the night
That cursed wheel kept spinning slow
Like mourning dressed in white

They say time can heal all wounds
But time can't solve this crime
I paid for premium bliss
Now I’ve lost my will to climb

Oh, the silence hurts the most
Haunted by what I lost

This is buffering
And I'm crumbling
Why now, why me, why here
The plot is gone, the path unclear

This is buffering
And I'm shuddering
I just needed one escape
But the signal sealed my fate

Oh Lord, I saw their eyes meet
Frozen in that glow
Was it love or was it death?
Guess the gods won’t let it show

This is buffering
It’s smothering
My soul in pixel pain
One sad bar left in the rain

This is buffering
It’s the end of everything
I waited all week for this scene
And now I’ll never know what it means

Buffering

I tremble at the words I let loose from my tongue
They land like stones heavy unstrung
Echoes linger in the air like ghosts unseen
A ripple in time where I’ve never been

Lost in a Universe

Shadow

YOU FEEL LIKE HOME
Words & Music by Rhob Elliott
©2025, Awful Racket Music (ASCAP)
All Rights Reserved

[Verse 1]
I’ve been through a lot
Had some rough days
Tried to keep moving
Just lost in the haze
Then you came along
Kind of out of the blue
And everything felt a little less hard with you

[Pre-Chorus]
You didn’t fix me
But you stayed
And that meant more than I could say

[Chorus]
You feel like home
Like I’ve been looking for this place
And there you were, just standing in my space
I don’t feel alone
With you
I know I’ve found my way
You feel like home

[Verse 2]
You laugh at my jokes
Even when they fall flat
You listen like no one ever did back
You don’t try to change me
Just let me be
But somehow you bring out the best in me

[Pre-Chorus]
It’s not about big words or plans
It’s just the way you hold my hand

[Chorus]
You feel like home
Like I’ve been looking for this place
And there you were, just standing in my space
I don’t feel alone
With you
I know I’ve found my way
You feel like home

[Bridge]
Even when we don’t agree
You’re still the one I wanna see
And if the world gets loud and wild
You’re the quiet in my mind

[Chorus]
You feel like home
Like I’ve been looking for this place
And there you were, just standing in my space
I don’t feel alone
With you
I know I’ve found my way
You feel like home

[Outro]
So let’s just stay right here a while
You don’t even have to say a word
You feel like home


YOU FEEL LIKE HOME

Rise Again speaks to the quiet strength found in moments of struggle — when everything feels lost, but something inside refuses to give in. It’s a song for anyone who’s ever been brought to their knees and still chose to stand back up. It’s about finding light in the ashes, rediscovering worth through pain, and holding on when the world says to let go. This is more than just an anthem — it’s a reminder that even in the darkest hours, the spark to rise is still burning within.

LYRICS
I’ve walked through nights, that stole my name
With heavy skies, and silent blame
Each step I took, was laced with doubt
But I kept moving, I found a way out

They tried to shape me, dim my spark
But I held on, inside the dark
The light was faint, but still it burned
A quiet strength, the world had yet to learn

I rise again, from the ashes and the pain
Through every fall, I find my flame
The storm may bend me, but never break
I rise again, for my own sake
Yes, I rise again, I rise again

I wear my scars, like threads of gold
A map of stories, I’ve been told
No shame remains, in where I’ve been
It shaped the fire, I carry within

I rise again, from the ashes and the pain
Through every fall, I find my flame
The storm may bend me, but never break
I rise again, for my own sake
Yes, I rise again, I rise again

Let the winds howl, let the shadows fall
I’ve stood through worse, I’ve faced it all
And when the silence, fills the air
I find my voice, still singing there

I rise again, from the ashes and the pain
Through every fall, I find my flame
The storm may bend me, but never break
I rise again, for my own sake
Yes, I rise again, I rise again
Yes, I rise again, I rise again
 I rise again

Rise Again

Trapped

A heartfelt ballad that captures the quiet loneliness of a life lived on the margins, where voices fade and connections slip away, one companion always stays:  Music.  This song is  a letter to the invisible friend that has never left.

My-Only-Friend

[Verse 1]
As a child I lay beneath the sheets,
Eyes wide in the quiet hush
The voices from my day still stirred
Till the night erased the rush
Then colors bloomed behind my eyes
They’d glow, they’d swirl, then shift to form
The room would fill with silent watchers
Just standing there, unknown and still

[Chorus]
They came in silence, unknown and near
No halos bright, no message clear
I never knew what they could be
Not ghosts, not dreams, not something strange
But angels, standing just out of range

[Verse 2 ]
I left that room, grew older fast
Filed it away in shadowed past
Then years went by, and one calm night
I told the tale beneath soft light
She paused, went still, then met my eyes
And said, Dad,  I saw them too.
Same room, same quiet, same held breath
She felt what I once knew

[Chorus]
They came in silence, unknown and near
No halos bright, no message clear
I never knew what they could be
Not ghosts, not dreams, not something strange
But angels, standing just out of range

[Verse 3 ]
One night I found the strength to speak
My voice was small, my body weak.
I said, You scare me, please just go away
And something shifted, soft and slow
No anger came, no harsh goodbye
Just quiet peace across the room
They faded like the morning dew
And left me safe, the way I knew

[Bridge]
I don’t know why they came at all
Or why they stood so still, so tall
But somehow I could feel them there
A quiet presence in the air

[Final Verse]
I no longer fear their faces in the night
Or the hush that holds them in the light
But if they’ve come to call me home
I’d whisper, Please, not yet, there’s more to hold.

It’s not their grace that makes me shake
It’s all the love I’d have to break
So if they’re near, I hope they know
I’m not ready, not yet to go.

Angels Out of Range

Runaway Bride

Portrait d’une artiste à fleur de notes
Elle est de ces âmes qui portent le monde comme un fardeau de lumière, une mélodie tissée d’ombres et de soupirs. Son cœur bat au rythme des mots, des accords égrenés dans le silence, des nuits où elle dialogue avec l’absence. Elle est une funambule de l’émotion, oscillant entre la douceur d’un souvenir et l’amertume d’un rêve brisé.
Lorsqu’elle écrit, le monde se tait. Devant elle, un carnet ouvert, ses pages constellées d’encres et de ratures, témoins de mille errances poétiques. Les mots coulent en français et en arabe, se mêlent comme les courants d’une même mer, portant avec eux le poids d’un passé qu’elle ne veut pas oublier et la promesse d’un avenir qu’elle n’ose effleurer. Chaque phrase est une énigme, une métaphore qui danse, un jeu d’échos entre ce qui a été et ce qui aurait pu être. Elle sculpte les mots comme d’autres sculptent la pierre, cherchant à capturer l’indicible, à donner une voix à l’indéfini.
Dans un coin de la pièce, une guitare repose contre le mur, complice silencieuse de ses insomnies créatives. Parfois, ses doigts effleurent les cordes, hésitants, comme si chaque note devait naître avec la gravité d’un secret. La musique est une prière murmurée au creux de la nuit, un dialogue intime entre elle et ce qu’elle n’ose confier à personne. Sa voix, tantôt caresse, tantôt éclat, résonne comme une confidence, vibrante d’une fragilité assumée. Elle chante pour conjurer l’absence, pour habiller les silences, pour raviver les souvenirs enfouis sous la poussière du temps.
Sa chambre est un monde en soi, un espace suspendu où le temps semble s’étirer. Des partitions froissées s’éparpillent sur le sol, des poèmes griffonnés s’entassent sur le bureau, des livres jonchent les étagères, compagnons fidèles d’une solitude choisie. Elle vit entourée de ces traces d’elle-même, comme un puzzle dont chaque pièce raconte une histoire inachevée. Ses pensées vagabondent entre hier et demain, empruntent des chemins de traverse où se croisent nostalgie et espoir, regrets et éclats d’étoiles.
Elle puise son inspiration dans le frisson du vent contre sa peau, dans l’écho d’une voix oubliée, dans la lumière d’un réverbère solitaire sur une rue déserte. Chaque instant est un poème en suspens, une mélodie prête à éclore. Elle capture l’invisible, transforme le quotidien en légende, les douleurs en refrains et les absences en refrains lancinants. Elle est une conteuse d’émotions, une alchimiste de la tristesse, sculptant la mélancolie pour en faire une œuvre d’art.
Elle a le cœur battant d’histoires qu’elle n’a jamais vécues, d’amours qu’elle n’a fait que frôler, d’adieux qu’elle n’a jamais pu prononcer. Son écriture est une lettre qu’elle n’enverra jamais, une bouteille à la mer lancée vers un destin inconnu. Et pourtant, derrière la mélancolie, il y a toujours une lumière discrète, un espoir fragile, une note suspendue qui refuse de s’éteindre. Car même dans la tristesse, elle sait trouver la beauté, et même dans le silence, elle entend encore la musique du monde.

Bchwaya Nikhfi

Batata hloua

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