The Hill 
Verse 1 
Oh, traveler heading to The Hill, Let me warn you, stay still. When you reach that winding stair, Don’t you speak, don’t you dare.
Chorus Lord, why’s my heart so torn? While others sleep safe and warm, One’s at peace in his own bed, I stand guard, my soul is bled.
Verse 2 
Oh, traveler, shame on you, Coming, going, what’s it to you? Chasing gold and riches fine, But leaving your kin behind.
Oh, traveler, what do you see? Tell me what’s become of me? The Hill’s now swords that cut so deep, My love’s become a ghost to keep.
Bridge Let me cry, let me grieve, For the Hill’s girl who had to leave. She left me with no goodbye, The Hill’s her secret, left me dry.
Verse 3 
By the river, winding low, Down through Ohio Hill it flows. My claim to you, oh sacred stream, Won’t pawn or sell, no shattered dream. Up between the mountains high, I saw leaves fall, heard a baby’s cry. Fadel’s still young, the tale’s unclear, But the girl’s enchantment lingers here.
Chorus Lord, why’s my heart so torn? While others sleep safe and warm, One’s at peace in his own bed, I stand guard, my soul is bled.
Verse 4 
My love came back, but what to give? Only carpets for him to live. Friends all circled, they stood so near, But I still fight the shadows here.
Oh, traveler heading to The Hill, Let me warn you, stay still. When you reach that winding stair, Don’t you speak, don’t you dare.
Outro Let me cry, let me grieve, For the Hill’s girl who had to leave. She left me with no goodbye, The Hill’s her secret, left me dry.


"The Hill" by The Bartenders is a hauntingly beautiful track that seamlessly blends dark country and blues rock. With Johnny D.'s rugged yet soulful vocals taking the spotlight, this song dives deep into themes of longing, betrayal, and resilience. The track’s layered production evokes echoes of '70s rock ballads, reminiscent of the poetic melancholy of The Doors and the dynamic intensity of The Who.

lyricist : Johnny D. / From the heritage of the "Aita," a text inspired by Moroccan folk arts.

The journey begins with sparse, mournful guitar riffs and a rhythm that builds like an approaching storm. As the song unfolds, the instrumentation evolves, incorporating swelling harmonicas, brooding bass lines, and subtle organ undertones. The result is a cinematic soundscape that feels both nostalgic and fresh, offering listeners a timeless exploration of heartbreak and hope.

This single marks a bold artistic statement from The Bartenders, showcasing their ability to merge storytelling with rich musical textures. “The Hill” stands as a testament to the band’s versatility, appealing to fans of both classic rock and modern country-blues fusion.

The Bartenders on Youtube : https://youtube.com/@thebartenders-q8t?si=7jfAXMFZhWudPavV
"The Hill" on Youtube : https://youtu.be/A-pppCW7-IM?si=6cDpBAFnFBguIwU4

The Hill (Short Version)

Dark Earl begins his odyssey with a sense of ironic preparation—ready for anything except the unpredictable. This track sets the tone with pulsating synths and ethereal echoes, a paradox of confidence and uncertainty.

SEDNA 0.1

I’m Set For Everything But Tomorrow (Remastered)

Strange entities lurk in the shadows of an unknown world. Their presence is felt before they're seen watching, waiting, whispering secrets from beyond.

Proximity Warning: Savage Entities Detected

The deeper Earl ventures, the stranger the forest becomes. Trees breathe, shadows move, and the jungle seems to have a mind of its own.

The Forest is Dark, Sentient, and Unstable

A poetic reflection on nature's whispers, this song evokes imagery of trees communicating with the wind, symbolizing connection and longing.

Paroles :
Hey Grey

[Intro]
Hey Grey, j’ai vu la mer s’ouvrir,
Mais personne n’a voulu y courir.
Les vagues chuchotaient des secrets,
Et les poissons parlaient en anglais.

[Couplet 1]
Les arbres écrivent des lettres au vent,
Mais le vent ne lit jamais vraiment.
Il les déchire et les jette au ciel,
Et les étoiles en font des étincelles.
Les routes tournent sans destination,
Elles cherchent des pieds, des directions.
Les lampadaires pleurent des éclats,
Des bouts de lumière qu’on ne voit pas.

[Refrain]
L’artiste marche sur des fils cassés,
Il construit des ponts pour s’effacer.
Il parle aux ombres, il parle aux murs,
Et trouve des mondes dans les fissures.
L’artiste rit quand tout devient flou,
Il voit des couleurs là où c’est tout.
Il dessine des portes dans le néant,
Et rêve d’un feu qui brûle le temps.

[Couplet 2]
Les horloges tournent sans aiguilles,
Elles comptent les rêves qu’on gaspille.
Le silence danse dans les couloirs,
Il fait des échos pour mieux s’asseoir.
Les miroirs montrent des reflets absents,
Des visages flous, des corps tremblants.
Ils cachent des mondes qu’on ne connaît pas,
Et rient doucement quand on les croit.

[Pont]
Les étoiles tombent pour toucher le sol,
Mais elles se brisent avant leur envol.
Les nuages saignent des gouttes noires,
Et la lune s’efface dans le miroir.
Les mots s’effacent avant d’être dits,
Ils cherchent des bouches, mais restent en vie.
Ils flottent, perdus, dans l’air qui s’éteint,
Et laissent des traces sur les chemins.

[Refrain]
L’artiste marche sur des fils cassés,
Il construit des ponts pour s’effacer.
Il parle aux ombres, il parle aux murs,
Et trouve des mondes dans les fissures.
L’artiste rit quand tout devient flou,
Il voit des couleurs là où c’est tout.
Il dessine des portes dans le néant,
Et rêve d’un feu qui brûle le temps.

[Outro]
Hey Grey, le monde est un mensonge,
Un puzzle brisé, un rêve qui plonge.
Mais si tu regardes entre les lignes,
Tu verras des fleurs pousser dans les ruines.


Paroliers : 3SR / Lotus Pastel

Burnin

Byron Hemmings

Recent comments

Byron Hemmings

Related tracks