EEMS

It's the final track for the Nest Trilogy - Hope!! Enjoy...

Hope

The Nest - Hope  (Dolby Atmos)

This is my latest danceable pop song with male AI vocals. Lyrics are taken from a poem by William Shakespeare. Listen with headphones...

Out now on all streaming platforms and distribution sites.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0YtGazArJmB7IlH3gkRLf1?si=sJPyQ2ZQSWKpmBaJAJDc4Q&context=spotify%3Aalbum%3A1iKZtwJOcJ3NSaIFSK0EKk

William Shakespeare - "Chronicle of wasted time" (sonnet 106)

"When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have express’d
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they look’d but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise."

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@constellation-lyra

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Chronicle Of Wasted Time [out now on Spotify]

Feel Free to Add to It🤘🏽🎧💪🏽
Original Song By Pink Floydd
Intro Track for Stucc's New Album 'Beyond Emo G'

Shine On You Crazy Diamond | Pink Floydd

SPIRIT was a legenday club in Dortmund with a legendary DJ named Mimmi. A colourful compilation of night owls who had no reason to go home at night went there and stayed until the morning or slept in the toilets. Some of them would have baked eggs among the early truck drivers at the Großmarkt at 06:00. The music was loud, wild and heavy but always surprising because Mimmi was, devilishly smiling from behind the long black hair covering his eyes, standing at the record table. In those days, the word "Claudia" was sprayed all over town for years and years to be seen. Some were wondering who "Claudia" was and who sprayed it and why he took so much effort...  Your name was written down on a 1000 places, spread all over town, you left your traces...

This one is to the memory of Mimmi.

Cellar Aged Wines

Spirit (with In Rags)

we have landed

C R U S H!

I wrote a proof once
In the margin of an old book
It held
It sang in silence
I solved a riddle no one posed
But someone should have
And the page
Bent to my will

I was on a train
Between Oxford
And existential despair
Light flickered. Ink cracked
My coffee spilled
Still, logic marched in perfect rows
Shining
Afraid to be alone

But the margin
Too narrow
For voices like this

I drew your outline
In the corner, soft and hidden
Lines too gentle for names
Wrote a vow, never signed
A plan with no axis
And the paper
Tensed beneath my wanting

Under the station's hum
I footnoted everything I didn't say
Margins full of detours
Echoes of maybe
Each heartbeat struck
A chord I never dared to play

What if the page could break open?
What if the lines ran wild?
Not neat. Not safe. Not approved
But real
Bleeding past every edge

Because the margin
Was never enough
Not for this voice
Not for us

Tear it out
Let the ink run free
We'll write where no lines go

The Margin Was Too Narrow

The build up to an horrific event and the slow recovery to normality

Echoes of Malice

Fortune doesn't favour your delay.
There are many coffins for each grave.
There's no welcome sign, beckons you home.
There aren't any markings on your stone.

I could use a lift out of this hole.
At least a decade living on their dole.
I am feeling trapped, caught in between.
I am feeling lost and submarine.

You are not welcome into the fold.
They're all laced with gold.
They don't feel the cold.
You boys are not welcome in the dream.
You're all submarine.
Submarine.

Condemnation has become obscene
Best find better things to do, get clean.
While everyone stays silent, by the way.
This is not the way to pass our days.

We are far too young to feel so old.
We the many, we are bought and sold.
We are living someone else's dreams.
We are so far down. 
We're submarine.

You are not welcome into the fold.
You can't provide the gold.
You're out in the cold.
You are not partaking in this dream.
You are submarine.
Submarine.


matando o tempo.

kenya

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