Dream Play

HORIZONS MEET THE SUN (G. Di Nunno)

Sleep deprived, lightning flash
With road rage gasoline
There's a
Quick phone check, swipe of thumb
A close call fright unseen.
Ohhh!

Safe from the grip of fate
Feel the chill 'cause you made it wait
Soon it all disappears
A tale to share with friends.

Mind your own, comes a spark
Full alert TNT
Seems there's 
Panic set, flight response
Should have left the hornets be!
Ohhh!

Call to the gods you know
Say the words and away they go
There back on solid ground
Walking away

Thus we move about and wonder what's to come
Keeping eyes ahead, horizons meet the sun.

Still it's hard to tell
Found some luck in a wishing well
Yeah, it brings the chills
Another day.

Can't explain it all; your number wasn't pulled
Go about in step--the reaper's never fooled. 
Thus we move about and wonder what's to come
Keeping eyes ahead, horizons meet the sun.

All content written and composed by Gino Di Nunno
Copyright 2023.

#1. Horizons Meet The Sun

well you can't know exactly where to turn
when you find you're losing hold
no you won't know exactly what it is
'til you know

it's a mountain you'd rather not climb
if it weren't so beautiful
keep it simple read between the lines
no one knows

chasing up high into the sky
might as well enjoy the ride
when you go warm in the sunlight
maybe you'll sing a lullaby

no you can't have everything at once
it's a matter worth repeating
but the golden view is pure delight
breathe in

so as much as it may seem real
all the stories they merge into one
with convictions higher than the hills
the unknown has its own will

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqA1SyUwqZk

Michael Weber's Album

age old question

Written and Performed by Novelli/Ruffolo
Verse Lyrics by Joey Cape

Lyrics:

Would it make you feel much better
If it was you against the world? 
If you were an alien?👽🛸👾
If it were conspiracy?
And would it hurt to live in comfort
If you found someone to trust?
If you knew that you were with us?
If we shared a common goal?

We
We went our way
We went our way
We walked way

Not This Time

© 2023 Pantomime Riot

Low vibration sonic fest
Didn’t pass the mushroom test
Shadows bounce around the walls
Panic climbs and darkness falls 
Interplanetary glide 
Silver tube now hide inside
Build a list the smash it down 
Even numbers break the frown

Murky strings sound alive
Drop the speed to seven five 
Frequency can now pulsate and
Has the shape to animate

Counting in reverse from ten
Spin the wheel and start again 
Keeping left around the maze 
Following the lunar blaze 
Silver shards of broken light
Penetrate the edge of night
Let them pass right through the skin
Feel the glory from within

Murky strings sound alive
Drop the speed to seven five 
Frequency can now pulsate and
Has the shape to animate

Concentrate don’t loose the edge
Till they freeze inside the hedge 
Reach inside and flip the hatch 
Turn that twenty second catch 
Run the game back through the air
Wave your banner to declare 
Chosen gems can now be spun 
Sitting neatly all at one

Murky strings sound alive
Drop the speed to seven five 
Frequency can now pulsate and
Has the shape to animate

FILTERED

C .15

Let It Roll

G-Wise Men of Gotham

Song To The Siren (Tim Buckley cover A Capella)

Safe Passage

Mobility Prism Mourns Sonmnambuilism Priority

I was trained in tradition, yet I stepped beyond its walls. Sound is my language, not to decorate but to liberate. Composer, performer, and listener — one fire, three sparks, inseparable.

I write and compose to uncover what is hidden: the truth buried beneath power, the dignity of the ordinary, the current of awareness that flows through all.

I belong to no authority, only to sound, to truth, to the silence from which all begins. My work is not mastery, but remembrance — a manifesto in every note, every word, every breath.

I am a composer of the 21st century: a studio artist. The studio is my forge, my battlefield, my sanctuary. Machines hum like choirs, circuits burn like torches, cables twist like roots in the earth. Tradition breaks open in this fire — the score turns to light, the instrument becomes the world itself.

To be a studio artist is to seize sound at its rawest, to sculpt electricity and breath as one, to summon the invisible power that belongs to all. Here music is not bound by walls, not enslaved by profit, not tamed by form. It is free, untouchable, unending — a living flame for the century that is ours.

C .15

Anthony Cutrera Morales

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