SAME OLD FIGHT

Adore You

I opened the door — did I even think?
Of stories carved in every link?
Or was I just cold, or tired, or numb,
Dreaming of silence, a bed to succumb?
A nice old carpet, soft and proud,
Long halls where whispers aren’t too loud.
Each door I passed could hold a tale,
But only silence marked the trail.

No footsteps, no voices, no clinking plates,
Just time standing still behind the gates.
Born in peace, yet built on ash —
You breathed in slow, with quiet flash.

🎶 1922 — and winter’s at the door,
He doesn’t knock, he’s heard before.
With leaves still clinging, cold and thin,
And something strange beneath the skin.
1922 — I felt your spine,
Old wooden bones in fading shine.
I came for sleep, I stayed for lore —
1922, with winter at the door. 🎶

Rapallo ink still wet with trust,
And Walther fell into the dust.
Insulin saved, the Irish cried,
While quiet hands built you with pride.
Mussolini rose, raw goods ran dry,
But still you reached toward the sky.
Brick by brick, you took your stand,
A shelter shaped by human hand.

What did I want? A pillow, a prayer?
Just steam on glass and cleaner air?
But I found a century dressed in dust,
And walls that whisper: “feel, don’t trust.”

🎶 1922 — and winter’s at the door,
He waits like he has waited before.
A suitcase packed with frost and light,
And stories hidden from the night.
1922 — you held me tight,
Through autumn’s end and morning white.
And when I left, I knew much more —
1922, with winter at the door. 🎶

It was a sunny morning. But cold.
He stood there.
Winter.
Not unkind. Not loud.
With surprises in his bag.
But spring came,
and one by one...
they melted.
And in the summer… they were gone.

1922 (Deep House Version)

‘Slow Sex’ isn’t just about physical connection—it’s about intimacy at its deepest level. It’s about those moments when everything slows down and it’s not just about the body, but about the emotion behind every touch, every breath, every look. It’s the kind of love-making where you’re not rushing to feel pleasure—you’re taking your time to feel each other. I wrote this from a place of craving that closeness—where passion meets vulnerability, where walls drop and it’s just two souls wrapped in honesty. It’s the kind of connection I miss, the kind I still want… not just to be touched, but to be truly seen

Slow Sex

I didn’t make this for the charts.
I made it because I had something deeply stupid to say.

This track is 85% garbage, 15% cocoa butter, and somehow… 100% fire.

Featuring:

Dubstep snare stacks with no regard for your ears
EDM lasers that sound like a fax machine on drugs
Lyrics that might be banned by your mom

Download at your own risk. No refunds. No dignity.

It’s not for everyone.
Actually, it’s not for anyone.

But if it slaps, it slaps.

— I’m TrashCat. I don’t want to be famous. I just want to be loud.

🟢 CloverVoiceover.com if you’re brave enough.



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Trash Cat in the Trashcan

In the whirlpool of tangled sheets
Her scent clings to my skin
Hearts echoing beats
Dreams replaying our sin

In her absence, shadows grow
Temptation's silhouette in tow
I linger on her whisper,
hoping it’ll keep me afloat
Yet, lost without the real note.

I scribble...
The middle
Is riddled with
Little brittle bits
That break
when fiddled with
There's more to me
Than you think
More to me
Than I've forged in ink

In the smoky haze of passion's battlefield
Lie our sacred scars and whispered truths
We fight against doubt, layer by layer,
Lost in the soulful promise of love's pursuit

You'll find my heart etched into your skin,
Ardent messages carved like ancient runes,
Unraveling within us both, thick and thin—
Though we're boundless


I scribble...
The middle
Is riddled with
Little brittle bits
That break
when fiddled with
There's more to me
Than you think
More to me
Than I've forged in ink

When I went looking
For myself
I set sail
To explore foreign shores
and endured my Hell
While seeking Eden

In the quietude
Your essence lingers,
a melody playing
between my fingertips,
crafted in whispers
& brushstrokes with intimate ink

I scribble...
The middle
Is riddled with
Little brittle bits
That break
when fiddled with
There's more to me
Than you think
More to me
Than I've forged in ink

Ripple

"Left on Read" by Sage Rat is a hauntingly intimate R&B ballad that captures the raw ache of unanswered love in the digital age. With velvet-smooth vocals layered over moody chords, ambient textures, and a slow-burning beat, Sage Rat paints a cinematic story of vulnerability, silence, and self-discovery. Each line pulses with the pain of ghosted messages and emotional abandonment, while subtle guitar licks and atmospheric synths create a nighttime vibe perfect for late drives and heartbreak playlists. A track that resonates with anyone who's ever watched 'Read 11:43 PM' fade into silence. This is soul therapy in 4 minutes and 21 seconds."

Left on Read

Great news! My Album is now on streaming platforms!

Spotify Link: Album 

https://open.spotify.com/album/4MEkOhuFMZfFwTwQxPEFQh?si=i5N20SsXRYWNNJ10sDtU7w



Hyper Link (All Platforms): Album 

https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/dojoflex/who/



Album Digital Purchase: Deluxe Album

https://dojoflex.bandcamp.com/album/who-deluxe-album?search_item_id=2043402885&search_item_type=a&search_match_part=%3F&search_page_id=4107050356&search_page_no=0&search_rank=3&logged_out_mobile_menubar=true

Popeye

🌌🕊️ This isn’t just a song. It’s a soul transmission.

"All at Once" is a spiritual anthem born from pain, rebirth, and radical self-awareness.

I speak as the sinner and the saved.
As the victim and the villain.
As every life I’ve ever lived — and every one you’ve lived too.

This track blends conscious hip-hop, spiritual trap soul, and spoken-word poetry, all wrapped in a dreamscape beat you can nod your head to — and rise to.

If you've ever felt like you’re more than this lifetime — if you’ve ever searched for light in the dark — this is for you.

Gods dream, short short memory.

a collection of old tracks that i remade or feel need to be reposted now of all times.

Wondering

Available on all major music platforms.
"I don’t need forever / Just touch me like I’m real… just for tonight."

Touch Me Like I'm Real

This is the world of Bryan Young. With a naturally deep and resonant voice, combined with an incredible ability to emulate various characters, Bryan takes professional home voiceovers to new heights.

Growing up, Bryan found inspiration in beloved characters from Sesame Street, The Muppet Babies, and even the iconic voice of James Earl Jones. The woodchuck from "Full House" also played a part in sparking his passion for voice mimicry. Through dedicated practice and exploration, Bryan honed his vocal talents, pushing the boundaries of his large voice box to deliver captivating performances.

On SoundCloud, you'll find a treasure trove of recordings showcasing Bryan's exceptional voice acting skills. From engaging monologues and mesmerizing storytelling to soothing guided meditation scripts and empowering self-love affirmations, Bryan effortlessly breathes life into each piece. Plus, you can enjoy his fun and unique interpretations of famous commercials, personalized voicemails, and much more.

Bryan's journey began in college when he ventured into the world of radio. It was there that his talent for character voices blossomed, and he started envisioning fresh ways to entertain and connect with his audience emotionally. Through every performance, Bryan strives to evoke genuine emotions, ensuring his audience feels the depth of each expression.

Prepare to be captivated by Bryan's versatile voice and immersive storytelling. Follow his SoundCloud account to experience a world where voices come alive, emotions are felt, and entertainment knows no bounds. Welcome to a realm of auditory enchantment, guided by the remarkable talents of Bryan Young. 

Find more on his website CloverVoiceover.com

Trash Cat in the Trashcan

Bryan Young AKA "TrashCat"