Sharp and fractured, a collapsing mind. A brittle, unsettling soundscape of warped synths and shattered tones. This track explores the cold, beautiful chaos of a reality breaking down.

The Noir Altruist

An instrumental vocal track for the quiet moments after a strange dream. For the feeling of seeing patterns that remind you of what matters. A slow build from intimate, melancholic textures into a warm, majestic, and triumphant resolution. A song about memory, destiny, and the horoscopes we find in unexpected places.

Sun Patch Horoscope

This world tide inside me
from a piece of a drowned heaven, 
swallowed whole.
My heart, a beautiful mistake,
too alive to ever be controlled.

So let its silent judgment come.
Not in the garden of polished stone,
Let it wait in that still hand,
and ask again
Is this chaos a failure,
or the only real thing left in here.
too alive to ever be controlled.
too alive

Too Alive Tide

A crimson signature
a blue contract.
The only rule, utterly broken

And now the world is a thin, painted curtain.

My memory, the only piece of evidence.

A quiet, unwinnable war 

against the verdict of the stubborn wine.

A fool's pilgrimage 

to prove a beautiful, impossible thing was true.

Stubborn Wine

On the stone-still world, the priests spoke in one voice.

They said the clouds held chaos.


My spirit, a restless ache,
offered up a prayer for something beyond.


The sky answered with a storm.

And leaves grew, fine as wings.

I wove the sinew and the hope,


To break the line, to hear what the unknown sings.


"You are meant to stay!" the voices called.

"The world needs you!" a duty I could not claim.

But a different truth moved me, a profound and quiet call.

"I am chosen," I said, giving myself a new name

His Origins (A Story)

The corners of the room don't meet.
A small and constant error

The solid things feel porous now.

The key is the lock.
The crooked lens behind the eye.

The ink runs
down coastlines of what was certain
blurring into my margins

I drew my cell
And the path 
erases itself with every step.

I Drew My Cell

Tent Xipper (Robot Summer Camp)

Fat Cicada

My throat was dust,
my prayer was spare.
Then the dirt answered with a fever,
its kindness became my cage.

The lilac air became a heavy memory
a front porch in an endless summer.

So I laid down my hands in the endless green.
I formed my faith upon one barren branch—
its healing touch,
the ruin of my answered prayer.

Barren Branch

Bone Map Orchestra (salvation)

Chambers of Awakening

The Troll Under Hendrix Bridge

A steady pressure
on the chalk-line within.
until the clean, white fire.

Then, the last static clears,
and your ending
spills into me.

I borrowed your well.
A bitter water
I learn you, line by painful line.

Bitter Waters

I learned to avert my eyes in the glass.
A quiet I allowed in the other rooms.

Today the air inside my room
did not recognize my lungs.
The neighbors looked straight through the space I was in

......................
There is a man who walks this street
who wears a coat that was mine.
People know his name.
Oh do they ever know his name

The record skips my name.
The image is empty.

And he walks right past it.
He never has to look away.
.....



I look back anyway

I Looked Back

Mars Attacks an Orchestra

All I said was the sky was beautiful, (pause)
into a careful room.
All the faces turned, (pause) all the faces turned my way.
My words just floated there,
then they vanished.
My small truth a stone in their machine.
I knew not that a simple truth was an act of war,
a crack in an iron side,

And from the crack, a siren.
Her dress, a still, waiting, red bell.
She opened her mouth to sing—
a flawless, piercing note.
And it made me want to run into her arms.
And it began to rain.

The Red Bell Dress

I make experimental music with and without lyrics, each song tries to tell a story that is open to your own interpretation. I like to explore the surreal and both light and dark aspects of life..Thanks, Enjoy, C.s Konrad

Bone Map Orchestra

Pinned to spotlight

Popular tracks