Original song written and performed by Indio Romero

Self Sabotage

Self Sabotage (acoustic demo)

Spotify link:
https://open.spotify.com/track/2MKdRboIHDL3Awd6BMdOYp?si=_1JTeVvgT0KFLn4Y5kWQgg 

Produced by CeoxCaM88 (@ceoxcam88)
Mixed by CeoXCaM88 (@ceoxcam88)
Mastered by G-Wizz, The Slayer
Cover by G-Wizz, The Slayer
Published by Dreams Of Colour

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Lil Lava Baby

Tryna Be Rude

SAVE

Tryna Be Rude Ft. Royal Jewels (Prod. CeoXCaM88)

Days like this (Prod. by Psyoniq.1)

someplace, somewhen
we’ll never meet again
this moment’s pinned up onto time
the razor now
will cut and split our thens
and even stars will fall in line
and little you and tiny I
oh we are just as unrepeatable
we only got to run it once
in all of this someplace-somewhen

you know those ripples
in the oxbow lake
repeat never again
we’re not all evil
when we make mistakes 
we hope to fix them all somewhen

no we
don’t need
no reason for the jubilee
no harm
no foul
no lent or saint for a carnival

no we
don’t need
no reason for a jubilee 
no harm
no foul
no miracles for a carnival

one place, one when—
a trickster of eternity
neither will crease nor bend
at least not for you & me

so gather all your rosebuds while you may
this is why you came
(of course it’s not okay)
just gather no regrets
somehow, someway...

someplace, somewhen
we’ll never meet again
this moment’s once in all of time
the razor now
will cut and split our thens
and even galaxies will fall in line

you know that levee
where we drank and wept
will not repeat again

no we
don’t need
no fancy math for a jubilee
no harm
no foul
no speed bumps for a carnival

someplace, somewhen
someplace, somewhen
we got to happen once
and never again

Support Gom

Someplace, Somewhen

youre still there _prod by mopey _

A festive banger to get the festive party going 🎄😘🍹🎉😜🔊🎶💗

Mistletoe Kisses (feat. WilRed)

Watch me (prod. by Rob EVN)

BANK HEIST

A 90s new man called Stan - The Intro (so near, so ska remix)

Therapy Fodder

Road Rage (2)

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"

```Madlibs with a metronome```

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.

Therapy Fodder

blorgpulkfplorksickle

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Lil Wass

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