Hmm, my summary,
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my soul
Without You I can be nothing
Without You I can't be anything 
Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
Summary......
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
You're everything that I can ever think I am 
That I can ever think that I am 
Everything within me
Everything around me You are!
All that my heart within me can think about 
Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
Alpha and Omega 
Jehovah Rapha
Jehovah Rohi
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life
You are The Summary of my life 
Yeah, once upon a years
I never thought I'll be
But you made me a living soul
And called me to be 
He gave me salvation from the devils 
And freed generations from the demons
He gave me salvation from the devils 
And freed generations from the demons 
Ahhhh
And we all are living souls 
Ahhhh 
Ahhhh
And we all are living souls
Living in Your Word
Living in Your Word 
The summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
Summary of my life 
Summary of my life 
Summary
Arabata ríbítí
Arìbìtì rabata 
Immortal invisible God 
You are The Summary of my life 
Summary.....
You are The Summary of my life 
Summary...
The Summary of my life
 You are The Summary of my life 
You are The Summary of my life 
Oh.... Summary 
Without You I am nothing 
With You I am everything 
I can never
I can never ever
Think I'll be everything that made me who I am
To say that who is The Lord?
I need Your power 
I need Your grace 
I need more of You 
You are The Summary
Summary of my life 
Summary of my life 
Summary of my life

SUMMARY

Summary

Inspired by the life and death of Albina Pecha, the last victim of the plague in Vienna. Dedicated to all medical staff who courageously risk their lives for the greater good.

Spotify

Only one breath

You'd walk past it
Most do
Paint chipped like bad decisions
One leg shorter than it used to be
Still, it waits
Under that half-dead tree

Enters girl, maybe seventeen?
Big sunglasses, bigger bubble tea
and a mop of joy named Pickle
Yes, she named the dog Pickle

She sits, cross-legged, like a question mark
tells Pickle he's a star
Snaps twenty-five angles
of one floppy ear and one historic bench

Caption?
"Look who found the philosopher's throne
😊😊😂❤️
#deepbarkthoughts"

Pickle pees on the tree
Bench approves
Tree does not comment

Then: a man and a woman
The date
They bring mulled wine in a thermos
Sit sideways, legs tangled like headphones in a drawer
He says something about stars
She says something about Lady Gaga
They kiss somewhere in the middle

A busker walks by singing Wonderwall
They tip him a sandwich and a smile
Bench approves
God of music sighs

Third act: Old man
Corduroy jacket in summer
Hands folded like quiet apologies

He doesn't speak
Doesn't blink much either
Just feeds pigeons one crumb at a time
like each one is a password to another day

He might be waiting
Or forgetting
Or remembering wrong on purpose

Bench knows his name
And age
And weight
And history
Doesn't say it out loud
Not polite

Pickle runs past again
He is twice as large now
The couple, now maybe married, maybe not, walk by
With a stroller

The old man doesn't come anymore
The bench doesn't judge
It just
Is there

The Bench

No one is mean (Remastered)

Wave After Wave
I keep telling myself there’s a reason I’m still standing. But tonight, it feels like the ocean is endless.
Every time I find my footing, another wave comes crashing, higher, harder, heavier than the last. I’ve moved, I’ve changed, I’ve left pieces of myself scattered in places I’ll never see again — all just to keep my head above water. People think I’m playing. They don’t see the salt in my eyes or the weight pulling at my chest. They don’t hear the conversations that replay in my head long after they’ve stopped talking.
I’ve given everything just to be here, to hold my ground. And still, I’m hit again. Wave after wave after wave.
You tell me I’m jealous — but of what? The noise? The empty victories? The comfort of staying still while I fight to keep moving? Write the list down for me. Let me read it back to you in the quiet and watch your words start to mean something you didn’t intend.
I don’t get to run away. Not until it’s done. Not until they remember my name.

WAVE AFTER WAVE

Oleander - Fleursonseaux
All rights reserved - © Copyright

Oleander

😆(Preface ..this is our 100th track on SoundCloud)🫨
OK, we’re back, ready to get hated even more than before, especially from those who have no sense of humor!😆
🚀 Wanna see Uranus? 🌌
No, not what you're thinking… or maybe yes 😏
A cosmic comedy with a twist: William Herschel, who discovered Uranus in 1781, was also a musician - so we’re in good company. The Beating Edge shares his love for both music and the stars. Dropping late August, this track is perfect for summer nights under the stars (and cracking a few cosmic jokes). Look up… and remember: it's just a planet!
💫 Poetic license alert: we know Uranus isn’t actually shining bright in the night sky, it’s almost invisible to the naked eye. To spot it, you’d need binoculars or a small telescope, and a really dark location, definitely not in the city.
💫 Bonus: you don’t need a telescope to enjoy it, but laughing is mandatory!
Have fun and maybe we’ll talk about Ur-anus 😂 in the comments!
Love you all!! 🫶

At the moment, this track is exclusively available on SoundCloud.
Released on August 22, 2025.
©2025 Beating Edge

Lyrics:

Wanna see Uranus?

Hey, wanna come and check out Uranus?
It’s shining bright, you gotta see this
Everyone’s got their cameras out
Capturing something way too lit to miss

Wait, what? Did you just say Uranus?
Are you serious? Or messing with me?
My... what now? Can you say it again?
Is this some kind of cosmic comedy?

No, no, no, it’s the planet, man
Out there spinning in the endless span
Not what you’re thinking, don’t be shy
Just look up at the summer sky

Wanna see Uranus? It’s out tonight
Glowing in the dark, such a crazy sight
Not what you thought, don’t lose your cool
It’s just a planet, no need to drool

My... anus? Really? That’s the joke?
I thought you said something broke
But now I’m laughing, can’t deny
Uranus rules the cosmic sky

Wanna see Uranus? Come along
It’s more than just a silly song
Look up high, don’t be confused
It’s the planet, dude, not your… you know

Wanna see Uranus? Come along
It’s more than just a silly song
Look up high, don’t be confused
It’s the planet, dude, not your… you know!

Uranus

Just some fun vibes. Be careful it's addictive 🤩💯👊🏾🫵🏾

So into you

Afterlife

Caving In (Studio Version) – Eileen Noise
A raw dark-grunge track, heavy and distorted, carrying all the weight of frustration and chaos. This is the full-band version, born to sound rough, loud, and unapologetic.

But sometimes, when the noise fades, the song reveals a different face…
👉 Watch the brand-new Unplugged version of “Caving In” now on YouTube: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u-fEXztEOEM

🎧 Follow me on Spotify for more releases: https://open.spotify.com/intl-it/artist/3gyawiyn1h42aeP11nH2KC

📺 Subscribe on YouTube and don’t miss the next chapter: https://www.youtube.com/@eileennoise9515

🖤 Two sides of the same breakdown. Which one speaks to you?

#CavingIn #EileenNoise #DarkGrunge #NewMusic
Produced by EileenNoise
Singer Sophie

[Verse]
The mirror cracks
I don’t even flinch
Shadows crawl where the light won’t pinch
My head’s a cage
No lock
No key
Who’s this ghost that’s haunting me

[Prechorus]
I scream at the silence
It just laughs back

[Chorus]
I’m caving in
I’m caving in
Walls made of whispers
I can’t win
I’m caving in
I’m caving in
The fight is gone
I can’t begin

[Verse 2]
The clock spins slow
Then stops dead cold
Minutes feel like years I’ve sold
Rain falls inside
The roof won’t hold
My soul feels rusted
My heart’s been sold

[Prechorus]
I claw at the surface
But it crumbles away
[guitar solo]

[Chorus]
I’m caving in
I’m caving in
Walls made of whispers
I can’t win
I’m caving in
I’m caving in
The fight is gone
I can’t begin

Caving in

Spinning Souls

I don't claim any ownership over any of this. Anyone can use any of it for any reason forever. Also I accept liability. Please don't sue me (and/or let's collaborate).

"Holy fucking shit, this shit is crazy wtf"

"Moments of being passable beyond novelty"

"Very ok"

"Actually slaps"

"Straight art"

"Noise"

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.

Spinning Souls

blorgpulkfplorksickle

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