Try not so hard
VOICE Martin Davidson (SWE)
CHOIRS Maly Reyes (MEX)
GUITARS Lucas Diaz Falabella (ARG)
BASS Walter Pallares (ARG)
GTR SOLO Xourel PS (SWI)
GTR SOLO Daniel Gomez (ESP)

MIX AND MASTER G4Z G (DEN)

COVER ART:
Roman from Russia
www.deviantart.com/running-to-hell


Verse 1:
These times it's harder then ever
Are you aware
They say that we should be clever
Then you should pray
Who ar e we, what should we do know
What do they ask

Chorus:
Try not so hard, rememebr things will allways work your way
Try not so hard, the path is yours. the place for you is with the kings
Try not so hard, rememebr things will allways work your way
Try not so hard, the path is yours. the place for you is with the kings

Verse 2:
For fame and fortune we will bough
That is your task
Connected into the media
Social it is
There is no Wikipedia
Your life's a quiz
Keep looking for the answers
What will you do
Get rid of all qour questions
And seek the truth

Chorus:
Try not so hard, rememebr things will allways look your way
Try not so hard, the path is yours. the place for you is with the kings
 Try not so hard, rememebr things will allways work your way
Try not so hard, the path is yours. the place for you is with the kings

Chorus:
Try not so hard, rememebr things will allways look your way
Try not so hard, the path is yours. the place for you is with the kings
Try not so hard, rememebr things will allways work your way
Try not so hard, the path is yours. the place for you is with the kings

 Outro:
Try not so hard
Try not so hard
The place for you is with kings
 The place for you is with kings

Try Not So Hard

Kapitel: Zelle B
B-Zellen-Lymphom. Klingt wie Biologie. Oder wie das Kapitel aus einem Lehrbuch, das man überliest, weil man denkt: Trifft ja eh nicht mich.
Aber seitdem es mich trifft, denke ich: B-Zelle – das ist wie Zelle B.
Ein Raum im Körper, verschlossen. Keine Tür, keine Fenster, keine Gespräche. Nur das: Ich bin drin. Und komme nicht raus.
Man sagt, es sei bösartig. Ich sage: Es ist einfach da.
Es hat sich ausgebreitet. Nicht laut, nicht plötzlich. Wie ein Gerücht, das sich ohne Quelle durch den ganzen Körper schlängelt.
Ich bin nicht krank in dem Sinne, wie andere denken. Ich bin eingesperrt – von innen.
Und draußen läuft die Welt weiter, als sei nichts.
Man sieht mich. Aber nicht das, was ich bin.
Einige sagen: Ich wirke verwirrt. Andere denken, ich sei auf Drogen. Ich höre das manchmal – Wortfetzen, Flurgespräche, Blicke, die zu lange an mir kleben.
Aber keiner fragt, ob ich gerade gegen mich selbst kämpfe.
Mein Körper ist nicht normal. Mein Gesicht manchmal zu müde für den Tag. Meine Augen springen, als wollten sie ausbrechen.
Ich sage nichts.
Ich rede mit Murschel. Er versteht.
Ich gieße Pflanzen, um mich selbst zu erinnern, dass Wachstum möglich ist. Ich fahre Fahrrad, als wäre die Bewegung eine Petition gegen das Stillstehen.
Und überall ist dieses Gefühl: Ich bin Teil der Welt, aber in einem anderen Modus.
Ich bin draußen. Aber Zelle B ist immer mit.
Manchmal stelle ich mir vor, ich wäre tatsächlich im Knast. Besuchszeiten gibt es nicht. Wärter – nur innere Stimmen. Der Hofgang: Mullersand. Die Mitinsassen: Gedanken, die keine Ruhe geben.
Und der Vorteilskauf war nur ein Versuch, mit der Außenwelt Handel zu treiben.
Doch dann kommt da ein alter Mann. Gibt mir zehn Euro. Nicht weil ich gefragt habe. Sondern weil er gesehen hat. Für einen Moment war da Licht im Zellenblock.
Und ich denke: Vielleicht ist Zelle B kein Knast. Vielleicht ist es ein Raum, in dem ich lerne, meine Stimme in der Stille zu hören.
Vielleicht ist der Körper nicht gegen mich. Sondern mit mir.
Vielleicht bin ich nicht krank. Sondern auf einem Weg, den man nur bei Nebel sehen kann.
Ich atme tief. Die Wendeltreppe ins Off rostet weiter. Der Beton bleibt heiß.
Aber ich lebe.

Ich bin in Zelle B. Aber ich bin nicht nur dort.

Kapitel: Zelle B (Außenposten)
Es riecht nach Bauschaum und billigem Kaffee. Die Luft ist nicht schlecht, aber sie steht.
Ich bin in Zelle B. Nicht metaphorisch. Nicht symbolisch. Heute wirklich: Gitter an der Tür, drei Wände aus Beton, eine aus Stimme.
Ich sitze auf der Pritsche, die mehr Stille kennt als Schlaf. Murschel kauert unter dem Metallrahmen. Er ist legal, aber geduldet – wie ich.
Die Nummer an meiner Tür beginnt mit B. Das ist Zufall. Oder nicht.
Ich denke: Vielleicht war mein Lymphom nur der erste Haftbefehl.
Draußen höre ich Schritte, die keiner begleiten will. Der Hof ist heiß. Kein Schatten außer dem Verdacht.
Ich werde von anderen gesehen. Manchmal sprechen sie mich an, als würde mein Blick halluzinieren.
„Du wirkst verwirrt“, sagen sie. „Brauchst du was?“
Ich lache nicht. Ich nicke. Nicht weil ich zustimme – sondern weil ich keine Lust auf Debatten habe.
Der Vorteilskauf ist weit weg. Aber das Schild steht vor meinem inneren Fenster. ROT. GRAU. ZWEIFEL.
Ich habe dort Geld verloren. Und jemand hat es mir gegeben. Jetzt verliere Ich die Zeit. Und keiner weiß, wie man sie zurückgibt.
Ein Wärter geht vorbei. Er sieht aus wie der Mann mit den Hunden – nur ohne Hunde, ohne Ruhe, ohne Blick.
Ich denke oft daran.
Damals: auf der Rückfahrt. Euphorie. Wind. Das Gefühl, dass ich nicht allein bin, selbst wenn ich es bin....)

Die Fortsetzung folgt am Nächsten Sonntag um 10:00h.

Zelle_B

“Soul Hunt” is one of the most direct and visceral tracks on the album — a relentless vision of unseen warfare, where human souls are the prize in an eternal struggle between forces far greater than ourselves. Based on one of my oldest lyrics ever written, the song captures a world drenched in fear and metaphysical violence. Peace is yearned for but never found.

The verses paint a bleak picture: “It’s all over” declares one line; “Bloodstained icons weep in woe” ends another. These aren’t just poetic images — they’re cries from a world where fragile human lives are tossed into a cosmic battleground beyond comprehension. The music echoes this turmoil with razor-sharp, old-school thrash metal riffing, driving the message home with unrelenting force.

At its heart, “Soul Hunt” forms the eschatological core of the album — a dark framework where the sacred collides with the violent. The Latin chorus, “Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna” (“Deliver me, O Lord, from eternal death”), taken from the Roman Catholic Office of the Dead, becomes more than a liturgical chant. It’s a desperate plea for endurance, for grace, for something to hold onto in the face of annihilation.

----------------------------------------------------------------

SOUL HUNT

A star fell blazing, torn from the sky,
Ghostfire flickers, years burn dry.
Lunatic echoes are tearing the spheres,
Behind steel gates, the enemy appears.

He winks at me with a hollow stare –
A pupil-less gaze, a frozen glare.
"Come with me," he speaks to me, "behold!
We'll walk in the void like the gods of the old!"

Bell tolls crash on the lead-gray land,
The last fires go out, lost in the sand.
It’s all over – we fade in the tide, 
abandoned island, fortress denied.

Life’s breath is stolen, I drink from the still,
degusting the wine that the ages spill.
Spare me, O Lord, from the hunter’s chase,
Grant me, O Father, a night of grace!

Libera me Domine
de morte eterna! 
(Deliver me, O Lord, 
from eternal death)

The forest echoes from the hunting cries,
Dark shadows creep where the lost souls lie.
A soul hunt is raging deep down below,
bloodstained icons weep in woe.

Horror Sacri

Soul Hunt

Para escuchar la versión original  https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/al-preguntar-por-mi-mama-version-original-ver-texto
Para escuchar la versión con MV https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/al-preguntar-por-mi-mama
Para escuchar la versión con Dazz Deva  https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/al-preguntar-por-mi-mama-voz-dazz-deva-ver-texto
Para escuchar la versión instrumental  https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/al-preguntar-por-mi-mama-version-instrumental

 AL PREGUNTAR POR MI MAMÁ

Acostado en su cama
no aparta la mirada
del “señor” que está en la cruz
¿quién es él? Solo sabe
que se llevó a su madre
y que se llama Jesús.

Su expresión, que es muy dura,
le roba la dulzura
a su carita infantil
que, a pesar de sus años,
el odio ha dibujado
con un semblante muy hostil.

Señor, al preguntar por mi mamá,
me han dicho que usted se la ha llevado:
que ahora estará en el cielo a su lado
pero que nunca a casa volverá.

Mi mamá era su amiga
pues siempre me decía
que tenía que rezar
y antes de acostarme
y también al levantarme
le tenía que besar.

Pero si ahora no vuelve
yo no sé cómo quiere
que yo le vuelva a rezar
pues no sé cómo hacerlo
¿no ve que soy muy pequeño
y me tienen que ayudar?

Señor, yo creo que puede aceptar
el trato formal que ahora le propongo:
deje volver a mamá, que estoy solo,
y yo le quito los clavos y se va.

Esperó una respuesta
que nunca le fue hecha
y rendido se durmió
después que unas lágrimas
regaran sus mejillas
por la enorme decepción.

WHEN ASKING FOR MY MOTHER

Lying in his bed,
he can't take his gaze
off the "Lord" on the cross.
Who is he? He only knows
that he took his mother
and that his name is Jesus.

His expression, which is very hard,
robs the sweetness
from his childlike face,
which, despite his years,
hate has shaped
with a very hostile countenance.

Sir, when I asked for my mother,
they told me that you have taken her:
that she will now be in heaven by your side
but that she will never return home.

My mother was your friend
because she always told me
that I had to pray
and before going to bed
and also when I got up
I had to kiss you.

But if you don't come back now,
I don't know how you expect
me to pray to you again,
because I don't know how to do it.
Don't you see that I am very small
and you have to help me?

Sir, I think you can accept
the formal deal I'm now proposing:
Let Mom come back, I'm alone,
and I'll take out the nails and you can leave.

He waited for an answer
that was never given
and, exhausted, he fell asleep
after a few tears
flowed down his cheeks
out of sheer disappointment.

Al preguntar por mi mamá AC

The aspect of Saturn as Old Father Time or the Grim Reaper is told here through the words of a woman who is dying in the arms of her lover. 

Saturn

https://soundcloud.com/pop-house-production

Big Shout out to Pop House Productions for being very proffesional and unapologetically straightforward on his craft. It took us almost two weeks of emails to get this right and i really appreciate the effort and energy you put into this. Salute and Respect! 

“Darkside” is a brooding, cinematic anthem from CYFR 360, produced by Pop House Productions. Built on heavy-hitting 808s, haunting melodies, and razor-sharp drum patterns, the track takes listeners into CYFR’s shadow realm—a place where ambition, paranoia, and power collide.

Lyrically, CYFR 360 balances slick wordplay with raw energy, addressing rivals, fakes, and the pressure of staying ahead in a competitive scene. The song leans into his darker persona, embracing the chaos while showing unshakable control. With its atmospheric production and commanding flow, “Darkside” feels both futuristic and primal—an unapologetic statement of dominance.

Whether you hear it as a diss, a warning, or a declaration of strength, “Darkside” cements CYFR 360’s place as a force that thrives in the shadows and shines when the stakes are highest.

DARK - SIDE ( REMASTER )

Overkill (Men At Work Cover)

Rhythm Call is an 80's pop rock song about wanting that special someone.  The words Rhythm Call can be imagined into anything your heart desires.

https://repostexchange.com/charts/top

Rhythm Call

Buy now fan price

Phoenix

Rapture is a new collaboration between the Beating Edge and Joe Stroffolino, following the awesome 'Asteroids (The Original Was Better) (https://soundcloud.com/beatingedge/asteroids-the-original-was). Joe wrote both the lyrics and the original music, while the Beating Edge rearranged and recorded it in a punchy rock style, adding driving guitars, strong rhythm, and dynamic choruses. Vocals feature Tom on lead, with Joe and Mary contributing both backing vocals and lead parts on certain verses and the bridge, creating a layered and energetic vocal texture.
The song explores the absurdity and irony of doomsday prophecies, the obsession with the rapture, and the endless cycle of believers and false prophets. It blends satirical storytelling with a critical eye on human behavior, delivering a mix of humor, intensity, and thought-provoking commentary through energetic rock arrangements.
Rapture is a track that engages both the mind and the ears, combining narrative, power, and fun in equal measure.
Copyright 2025 Joe Stroffolino & The Beating Edge

Lyrics:

These prophets who say the world's gonna end and they set a specific date
And then when it doesn't happen, their followers still think they're great
The sun rises the next morning and people stumble out of bed
Disappointed that the rapture didn't happen and they're still alive instead of dead

All these people going through the motions, trying to deal with the daily grind
Hoping the rapture comes soon and they're not the ones who are left behind

They claim they have a direct line to God but there was a glitch in the connection
But now they're certain of the expiration date so they issue a correction
The shepherd guides the flock and tries to keep them safe from harm
But how many times can you cry wolf before people ignore your alarm

All these people going through the motions, trying to deal with the daily grind
Hoping the rapture comes soon and they're not the ones who are left behind

Who cares about the environment if you think the world is gonna end
And you're convinced the second coming is right around the bend
So drill baby drill and chop down all the plants and trees
No need to spend money on curing terrible disease

In every generation throughout history, people were certain that the rapture would come
And they had followers willing to believe them as they fed them each a tiny crumb
In baseball you only get three strikes and then the umpire says you're out
But when it comes to doomsday prophecies, the true believers have no doubt

All these people going through the motions, trying to deal with the daily grind
Hoping the rapture comes soon and they're not the ones who are left behind

Rapture

Hey music people! 🎸
Here we are with a new track! Well, it’s actually not brand new: we wrote and recorded it over 3 years ago, way before we got on SoundCloud. Now we’ve re-recorded and polished it quite a bit, and here it is.😊
Evolution (Talking With the Past) is a journey through time and generations, exploring memories, changes, and reflections on the past. From ’99 to 2026, we tell how time flies, taking away everything that seemed eternal, but leaving moments of real emotion, energy, and life. It’s a mix of nostalgia and pure energy, with guitars, synths, and a solid groove that we hope will make you feel it.😌
We hope you enjoy it at least a little, and if you feel like it, drop a comment! We’d really love to hear what you think!🙌
Next track, we’ll reconnect with our Apocalyptic Trilogy, complete with a video (probably going to be age-restricted on YouTube, considering the oceans of blood 😅) and some bloopers. Let’s see what comes out of it.
Oh, and a little spoiler: for Halloween we’re working on a song in Italian (don’t worry, we’ll post the English translation too!).
Enjoy! Love you all! 🫶

At the moment, this track is exclusively available on SoundCloud.
Released on October 9, 2025.
©2025 Beating Edge

Lyrics:

Greetings
here’s two thousand five
we are so free and so alive
for this
this life we live

Hey
so what’s up?
this
is twenty twenty-five
Goodbye

Hey
we can’t believe this
this
this thing
this thing is real
(Wow)

Talking
with the past
they were doing
all their best
but time
is passing by
flying away
wave goodbye
Goodbye

Hey you guys
it’s ’99
all the drama
now is coming back
right into our heads
bringing back
the mess in our lives

Hello dudes
the millennium now is past
and things are going mad
the year now is two thousand twenty

Talking
with the past
they were doing
all their best
but time
is passing by
flying away
wave goodbye

The pandemic hit
and the world paused
our lives rewrote

Hey
here’s two thousand twenty-six
the world keeps spinning
free to die

Now
there’s nothing we can do
you’re just following us
and in a not-so-far day
you will say what we say
you will look at your past
and realize that
all the good things you had
now are memories in the past

Talking
with the past
they were doing
all their best
but time
is passing by
flying away
wave goodbye

Goodbye!

Evolution (Talking With the Past)

🔗https://ffm.bio/beatingedge
🙌Welcome (back) to the (Beating) Edge! 
👉We are an eclectic band that blends elements of electronic dance, metal, pop, punk, rock, synth wave and more to create a unique and engaging sound (..🎧 listen and decide for yourself… if you're ready for the journey)! Our identities are top-secret (..more or less😅), forgive us, we're a bunch of very shy aliens🛸 (4 males 💁🏻‍♂️🙎‍♂️🙋🏼‍♂️🦸🏼‍♂️ and 1 female🙅‍♀️, the guitarist/backup singer). Our earthly names (and nicknames) are Tom ("Lucifer" - lead vocals and occasional keyboards/guitar), Mary ("Vampira" or just "V" - guitarist and backing vocals), Mauro ("Maux" - keyboards, piano, synths and winds), Davide ("Dave", "Quiet D" or just "D" - bass and synth bass), and Valerio ("Brad", drums and percussions). And you definitely DON'T want to know the origin of some of our nicknames!😅
Enjoy the music!😉

The label BE Melody and the recording/production studio BE Studios are owned by Beating Edge and are © 2024-25.
© 2024–2025 Beating Edge. All songs, lyrics, artworks, and videos are owned by Beating Edge. All rights reserved.