Outward I Look (To The Sea)

Outward I Look (To the Sea)[demo]

sologuitars Mr Woodhand
poduced by  Lágy Szellő,
lyrics by Barlangi Fuvallat
Enjoy! 😎
Words:
Verse1:
Kurva mindegy, hogy halott vagy
mert álmodban még élsz
és lyukat vágsz ebbe a dobozba,
hogy beerezd a fényt,
de nincs itt semmi más,
csak egy tigrisnek való,
rózsaszín felhő, a szélén űlsz
és várod , hogy eljő egy újabb isten
aki már, ilyasmit igér, amit még
ő sem hisz el

chorus1:
kurva mindegy már
hogy ha sodor az ár
kurva mindegy már
ugyis elnyel a mocsár.......

solo
verse2:
mert nem hiszed,
hogy a bűvész űres  
kalapjából nyúl jön elő 
és a ketté szelt ember, 
ha összeragasztják újra felnő
és hogy a bohoc
pengével rajzol mosolyt magának
mert a vidámságot soha
nem győzi le a bánat
chorus2

kurva mindegy

Ash and Adam

Forgetting my solace
In the name of shame
Less than what’s always been portrayed
It’s always just slivers
Just a bit more than what’s been weighed 

In this absence
I have been alive four days
In this absence
I have waned... 

Scare let it scare
I’m done with fighting
Try more than I 
I’m done with seeing
If it saves our lives

Shark

Have you ever felt broken after a failed relationship and couldn't pick up the pieces? This song depicts both sides of a breakup story and shows that what they were looking for, wasn't so different in the end.

Cover is also safe made btw.

Fix Me

90's inspired rock, made in Metro Detroit.

Lyrics:

I don't want to know. Smiled at all the things you said, I did it all for show.
And all that claim to be, and those of you who disagree, we heard it all once again. My "give a fuck" is on the mend.

Stop searching for the good in everyone, thinking they'll find a way. I might just wreck my world today.
Stop caring. Forward thought has come undone. I've got some bills and hell to pay. I think I'll wreck my world today.

Why grow up, it's all in who you know. Tired of hearing random names. It lost it's charm ten years ago.
Don't think. Don't rest. Come on down and do your best. Don't freak. Don't lie. Why show up or even try.

Stop searching for the good in everyone. Sick and tired won't go away. I might just wreck your world today.
Stop caring. Forward thought has come undone. Another game for us to play. I better wreck your world today.

And it's all going down now.
And it's all coming  down now.

Break

"Ngau Tau Dai, Ngựa Háu Đá" (牛頭低，馬好踢)
Meaning: Combines the Cantonese proverb about a cow lowering its head to drink water and the Vietnamese saying about young horses liking to kick. It suggests that both patience and impulsiveness are part of life's journey.

Ngau Tau Dai, Ngựa Háu Đá

What? whichever! they roll. 
Can't believe I'm still standing up.
I really don't feel that old.
It gets tight the second time around.
Starts a-taking its toll.

Now there's no one a-listening.
To all the things I don't say.
There's only pieces left, a-hang about.
But we all took our pay.
As I stare down the window pane.
It's all just blowing away.

We fall by the side.
You know that we tried.
We all start to slide.
Though we tried, and we tried, and we tried.
Lord, we tried.

Well here is a memory.
And here is the cold.
Here's a friday to wait upon.
If you'll carry my stone.
Here lays all your sympathy.
Which you bought to be sold.

Take your well heeled fake jesus.
Take your ideals of love.
Take your fake plastic empathy.
Fits you like a glove.
Take anything you want from me.
I will never give up.

We fall by the side.
You know that we tried.
We all start to slide.
Though we tried, and we tried, and we tried.
Lord, we tried.

We Tried [Pretty Green Mix]

Heavy from the gate, this track is about the thrill and mixed feelings that come from a short lived connection

3rd degree burn (Prod. rick hardy)

High Wire Love is an original song by Hope Street from their latest album - Dead Already Power

High Wire Love

Double Dome - Robert Grigg & Combstead

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Actually slaps"

At its core, the blorgpulkf is a pulsating, iridescent orb that thrums with an energy that can only be described as "the sound of a thousand bees having a rave inside a kaleidoscope." It's hypnotic, it's unsettling, and it's strangely addictive - like watching a lava lamp filled with Mountain Dew and gummy bears.

But that's just the beginning. Surrounding this pulsing heart are layers upon layers of... well, your guess is as good as mine. One moment it's a tangled web of neon tubes that hum with an eerie frequency, the next it's a churning mass of what appears to be sentient silly putty. And is that a tiny disco ball I see nestled in there? You bet your sweet bippy it is.

As for its features, the blorgpulkf is like a Swiss Army knife designed by a mad scientist with a penchant for pranks. It's got a button that releases a burst of confetti and the sound of a rubber chicken being stepped on, a lever that causes the whole thing to fold in on itself like a origami crane having an existential crisis, and a tiny compartment that dispenses a single, perfectly spherical grape every 37 hours.

But perhaps the most baffling feature of the blorgpulkf is its ability to communicate. Not with words, of course - that would be far too pedestrian. No, the blorgpulkf speaks in a language all its own, a cryptic code of flashing lights, whirring gears, and the occasional burst of atonal jazz played on what sounds suspiciously like a didgeridoo.




The plorksickle. It's like someone took a fever dream, a Mad Lib, and a Dada art installation, threw 'em in a blender, and hit "puree."

Picture this: a contraption that looks like it crawled out of a Salvador Dali painting and mated with a Rube Goldberg machine. It's got a crank that sounds like a yodeling ostrich, a button that releases a puff of glitter and the scent of existential dread, and a tiny screen that just flashes the word "moist" in Wingdings.

But here's the kicker - every time you think you've figured out what it does, it changes the game. One minute it's reciting beat poetry in binary code, the next it's turning itself inside out and becoming a Klein bottle. And don't even get me started on the time it started oozing a viscous liquid that tasted like the color purple.

Is it a tool? A toy? A sentient being from another dimension that's just really, really bad at communication? Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, it's the most beautifully useless thing I've ever laid eyes on.

But maybe that's the point. In a world where everything has to have a purpose, a function, a reason for being, the plorksickle is a big, fat middle finger to the very concept of sense. It's absurdity for absurdity's sake, a Zen koan in physical form.

So if you ever see me on the street, cradling this bizarre little gizmo like a newborn lovechild, don't ask me what it does. Just nod, smile, and know that you're in the presence of something truly inexplicable. Something that laughs in the face of logic and spits in the eye of reason.

Ngau Tau Dai, Ngựa Háu Đá

blorgpulkfplorksickle

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