Lève-toi

Only God Knows

WWW.LINKTR.EE/VINCETREE

Verse:
She danced in the doorway, just a whisper and a sway
Took my love to heaven, but left my soul to pay
I see her in the mirror, just for a little while
Don’t need no photo, ‘cause my shadow wears her smile

Chorus:
Oh the grave took her laughter, the night took my mind
The bottle took my days, and the blues ain't been kind
She gone without goodbye, been gone a long while
But Lord have mercy—my shadow wears her smile

Verse 3:
Her dress still hangs by the bedroom wall
A ghost of silk and pain, too light to fall
When the wind comes callin’, I wait in exile
Watch the candle flicker... my shadow wears her smile

Bridge (spoken, half-sung):
I tried to run from Memphis, down through Natchez bend
But sorrow’s got a long arm, and it know just how to bend
Everywhere I go, that shadow walks in style
Grinnin’ like a devil… wearin’ her sweet smile

Final Chorus:
Oh the grave took her laughter, the night took my mind
The bottle took my days, and the blues ain't been kind
She gone without goodbye, been gone a long while
But I still see her every dusk…
My shadow wears her smile

MY SHADOW WEARS HER SMILE

Clarity

AIBRY – Cassette Tapes

This project is more than an album — it’s an artifact. A two-sided experience that plays like a lost tape rescued from the static. Side A hits fast and raw, with fractured memories and jagged rhythms. Side B slows down into the deep burn, echoing in distortion and decay.

Every track is a chapter — reels spinning, signals breaking through the noise. This is trauma, survival, and rebirth, pressed onto magnetic tape and left for anyone brave enough to press play.

📀 Track Order

Side A

Press Play 
Legacy/Cracks
Walkman Wounds
Signal in the Static
Loop Failure
Rewind Interlude

Side B
7. Ashes to Armor
8. Static Saints
9. Channel Burn
10. Sidewalk Gospel
11. Dead Air Interlude
12. I Stayed 
13. Outro

⚡ Explore the full interactive deck and message board: https://thelastcassette.neocities.org/

Walkman Wounds

Epic Choir meets Drill Rap - B Book

Politics is Witchcraft

Title: Chris Watts Adjacent
Artist: @TheRealFatMatt (Scarecrow’s Cousin / GhostFish)

Description:
Chris Watts Adjacent is a Meat Locker Drill anthem — short, stabbing bars laced with tabloid horror. FatMatt drags true-crime nightmares into the drill cadence, taunting opps with psycho menace and freezer-cold imagery. With sliding 808s, industrial echoes, and lines like “Michael or Jason, I’m Chris Watts adjacent” and “Dead in the trunk, opp pack vacant,” this track is pure Final Form.

A fusion of LaneMash drill, Bone Thugs “Final Threat”, and Lord Infamous whisper-core, Chris Watts Adjacent feels like CCTV footage set to a beat — claustrophobic, menacing, unforgettable. This is horrorcore drill for the tabloid era.

Christ_Watts_Adjacent

Family

Element Bender

Got it.
Ready, Dad?

Go on then.

Finger-pick the morning, slow as butter on toast,
You tap the glass,

Look, Dad, the clouds made a coast.

We pack two apples, a biscuit we’ll share,
Your wellies say squelch like they’ve got their own prayer.
You tug my sleeve,

Tell it proper, alright?

So I fold the day open like a letter in light.
Street hum, sparrows, the bus does a sigh,
Your hand in mine: pocket-warm July.
You point at a puddle,

That one’s the moon, see?

And we step through silver into might-have-been sea.
Brolly like a circus, drip-drop drum,
You hum a tiny melody that used to be Mum’s.
I ask who you were before you learned name,
You grin like a lantern and you start your refrain,

Fore I came down, I lived in a pocket,
Kept stars in a jar and dreams in a locket.
Slid down rainbeams,
wheee,
like a secret lane,
Picked you and Mum
‘cos you’d dance in the rain.

Taddle tale, tell it slow,
Tea-steam stories where the warm winds blow.
Little boots tap the road like Braille,
Reading the world by a taddle tale.
Taddle tale, say it true,
I think the sky’s been talking to you.
Hand in a pocket of April hail,
We’re learning to live by your taddle tale.

Right, listen up,
once I was a whisper in a shell,
Riding little waves going whoosh,
proper swell.

Had a map made of feathers,
a feather-map trail,
Followed a robin,
he was boss,
never fail.

He said
‘Down there’s Dad, bit wobbly but kind,
He makes toast too burnt but he never minds.’

And Mum?
She’s a lighthouse wrapped up in a shawl,
She hums when it’s foggy so you don’t get feel to small.

I checked all the windows,
knocked on the blue,

Said,
Excuse me, hello, I’m meant to be by you.

The you-that-is-more when I jump in your day,
The bit that goes louder when we go and play.’

So I scooted down a raindrop,
weee, didn’t slip,
Landed by your trainers with a plop and a drip.

You looked so knackered but you smiled anyway,

So I tucked in your pocket and I stayed.

Cheeky stowaway… best decision I’ve ever had.

You draw me a map with crumbs on a plate,

I circle the bits that are worth the wait.

We write on the mist where the window’s pale.

Home is a line in a taddle tale.

Taddle tale, tell it slow,
Tea-steam stories where the warm winds blow.
Little boots tap the road like Braille,
Reading the world by a taddle tale.
Taddle tale, say it true,
I think the sky’s been talking to you.
Hand in a pocket of April hail,
We’re learning to live by your taddle tale.

If I forget, will you carry the bit?

I’ll carry the bit and the rest of it.

If I get cross

We’ll count to four.

If I get scared

We’ll check the door.

If you get sad

I’ll read your skies.

If you look lost

I’ll borrow your eyes.

And we’ll go walking the in-between,
Where the stories choose what they mean.

I keep the notes you hand me,
crumb constellations,
Bus-ticket stars and leaf-inked nations.
You badge my coat with daisy pins,
Declare me brave, so the brave begins.
We step through town where the shop bells chime,
You rename streets ‘til they fit our time:
Marmalade Lane and Teddy-Bear Bend,
A cul-de-sigh where the hard bits mend.
If anyone asks how we found our place.

We read the weather on your face.

You tug my sleeve.

Dad, tell it again,

And I swear I see Mum in the shine of the rain.
You say you chose us, love chose first,
And watered the ground where two hearts thirst.
Your laugh is a lantern. Your hush, a sail.
I live by the light of your taddle tale.

taddle tale

Support our mission to raise awareness around child loss through music, stories, and shared hope. Every contribution helps us honour the memory of our children and support others walking this path.

taddle tale

Dancing salamanders

Related tracks