Project RESIDUE (the Dandylion Chock)

YOUTUBE VIDEO ART
https://youtu.be/aAex9NHwqXg
https://chrisjunos.bandcamp.com/album/greek-drama

ABANDONED

I was happily surprised a couple  weeks ago with this one from my good friend Masa and my now new friend Khan.  I got the track and it had the super groovy synth bass and the percussion along with Khan’s magical vocal track.  I spent a few days filling in around it trying not to add too much but still wanting to paint the picture.  Masa and Khan are absolutely two of the kindest 
and most gracious souls out there.  I was honored they asked me to participate and am happy with how things landed.  Hope to create more with them in the future!


Title/  Sunday afternoon-ft Khan, Tot.&Tex Mex Shaman

words&vocals-Khan
(URL https://soundcloud.com/khan20233202)

drums, bass&keys-Tot.
(URL soundcloud.com/tot-beat )

guitar, effects  & final mix, mastered-tex Mex Shaman

Lyrics :
Sunday afternoon  

Sunny Paul went to the sea
Sunny posy laughing lady
People 
Asked him
How come you’re so happy?
I’ve no worries
Sunday afternoon
In the summer Sunday afternoon 
If you want to be stay happy 
Doubt your thought
Doubt your thought
Doubt your thought
Doubt your thought
You stay
 just be yourself
If you want to be stay happy 
You stay
 just be yourself


サニーポールは海へ行った
サニーポジーは笑い上戸のご婦人
みんなが聞く
なんでそんなに幸せなのさ
心配を持ってないんだ
日曜の午後
日曜の午後
夏の日の
君の考えを疑うんだ
君がしあわせでいたいなら
ただ自分自身でいるんだ

Sunday Afternoon - w/ Tot and Khan

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:
You were planted, 
often alone
Catching a red fish 
and letting it go
Violet tinged under 
the water
In your head, a hole 
I hammer
So a gentle warm breeze
might into it blow
Catching a red fish
and letting it go

Undone 
the soul saves but one
Fed off the youngest look
Aphids get hooked

The lifeline is open
in my hand
Hard death looms like a 
palm filled with sand
I love chlorophyll in my 
treacherous land
The fresh squeezed blooming
deprived me
I cannot stand

Bathed like leaves
in a history book
Maddening
how Aphids get hooked

Youth, young and small
Directions promise it all
Yet they complain of getting rooked
(Even though they know)
Aphids get hooks

You were planted,
often alone
Catching a red fish
and letting it go
Here in mauve sun
solvent by the brook
Underneath, caves want it all
Here, Aphids get hooked
Oct. 21, 2024 and May 9, 2025

Aphids Get Hooked

on the road from Maribor to Bamberg I noticed a sign that said Quellverkehr - sounded like an interesting title for a synth-based instrumental. Hope you enjoy. Downloadable CC BY. 

Quellverkehr

"This song isn’t about performance... it’s about survival.
I live with autism, constant mental noise, and the pain of losing my ability to create with my hands. When the chaos inside becomes too much, the only peace I find is in music.
This track is how I process, how I breathe, how I stay.
If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed, unseen, or like you’re running from your own thoughts…
I made this for you too."
💙🎷💭 #NeurodivergentVoices #AutisticArtist #MusicAsMedicine

****Lyrics****

My brain’s not wired the way it should be,
It hums and flickers constantly.
Patterns flood me, sounds collide,
So I shape the storm I hold inside.
My dad saw the blueprints in my stare,
Let me build, let me breathe, let me repair.
Where others saw mess, I saw machines,
And he saw the music in my in-betweens.

I used to draw, to twist, to weld,
My hands could echo what my mind held.
And when the noise got too loud to bear,
I’d pick up my sax, and I was there.
No sheet music, just me and the sound,
Playing what I felt, not what I’d found.
I’d slip into songs like a second skin,
And the world would hush from deep within.

I don’t write songs to sing along,
I write when I’ve held it in too long.
It’s not for fame, or a radio track,
It’s to help my mind find its way back.
When I don’t write, I start to drown,
So I turn my overload into sound.

You see talent, I see weight,
Thoughts that crash and reverberate.
I hear harmony in the sound of fans,
Basslines in pipes, chords in hands.
Ideas claw at me when I try to sleep,
Rhythms that haunt instead of keep.
So I write not to create, but to release,
To bargain for just one hour of peace.

Some call me a genius, it makes me flinch,
There’s a thin line here, and it’s barely an inch.
Passed out at my desk more times than I know,
Because the noise won’t stop, and I can’t let go.
But your words hold me like steady hands,
You listen, you lift, and that still stands.
You don’t just like what I create,
You remind me I can still translate.

I don’t write songs to feel adored,
I write because I’m coming apart at the core.
It’s not performance, it’s not control,
It’s how I channel what’s stolen my soul.
So if you hear my work and feel seen,
Know I wrote it just to stay between.

There’s no off switch in my skull.
No quiet room. No empty hull.
But Music makes it breathable.
Makes it bearable.
Makes me visible.

I don’t write songs to entertain,
I write because they buffer the pain.
You think it’s talent, but it’s how I cope.
I turn the flood into fragile hope.
And if my music helped you sleep tonight…
Then maybe, I’ll sleep too.
Just for a while.
That’s enough.

I don’t sing.
I survive.
And this,
This is how I stay alive.

I Don’t Write Songs "I Survive”

Clown in the $treet

Antz In Your Pantz RADIO MIX

Flow Motion

When they realize

thanks, y'all push me to create more and evolve by listening and reaching out! So much of my joy comes right from that <3 
- Sorry_Pal
PS: Batman Beyond is GOATED

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