Don't Care

Fuzziekiss & THEHOMEBOIII - Don't Care

y u so me4n

eyes open before i go (prod.shadow)

The air hums low with whispers of thought,
A canvas stretched, her brushlines caught.
The café buzzes, but she’s somewhere far,
Lost in a world where symbols are stars.

"What stories linger in the curve of her hand?
What secrets unfold in the lines she’s planned?"

Her brush moves slow, like a dancer’s grace,
Tracing a serpent with a human face.
The sun and moon, a union bold,
Bound by chains of silver and gold.

"What does it mean, the dragon’s tongue?
The wheel that turns where the stars are hung?"

"It’s the circle of time, the world own game,
The search for truth, for a hidden flame."

Through the twelve gates, where the riddles gleam,
A sacred path, a golden dream.
Lead to silver, silver to gold,
The right and perfect meanes unfold.

The colors shift as the story grows,
A phoenix rises where the poppy blows.
She tilts her head, the brush held tight,
"It’s the ashes reborn in the fire’s light."

"And what of the stone, the one they seek?
Does it live in this scroll, in words they speak?"

"The stone’s not found in the gold they crave,
It’s the heart that loves, the soul that’s brave."

Through the twelve gates, where the symbols play,
A sacred science to light the way.
Lead to silver, silver to gold,
The right and perfectest meanes retold.

Her eyes alight with the fire she stokes,
A story lives in the art she evokes.
The serpent coils where the eagle flies,
An ouroboros of infinite ties.

"She paints a world where the broken mend,
A map of hope, where circles end."

"Are you lost in thought, or lost in me?
The symbols speak if you choose to see."

The dragon breathes, the phoenix sings,
The cycle turns where the fire clings.
"We’re all brave, in our own way,
Turning grief to light, to find the day."

"And you, the artist, the keeper of dreams,
Show me the truth in these gilded streams."

She hands him the brush, his fingers still,
"Add your mark, wherever you will."
He draws a line, where the rivers meet,
A quiet echo, soft and sweet.

"You’ve gilded the stream with a silver gleam,
Now it’s part of our daring dream."

"Together we build what the world can’t see,
A map of hope, a legacy."

Through the twelve gates, where the secrets hide,
A sacred path where love abides.
Lead to silver, silver to gold,
The right and perfectest meanes unfold.

The brush lays down, the colors blend,
The story told, yet it won’t end.
In every mark, a piece of flame,
The right and perfectest meanes remain.

The Right and Perfectest Meanes

inside?

Yeah, Im Flexin

with me (ft. xykho)

Så lunka vi så småningom
Från Bacchi buller och tumult,
När döden ropar, Granne kom,
Ditt timglas är nu fullt.
Du Gubbe fäll din krycka ner,
Och du, du Yngling, lyd min lag,
Den skönsta Nymf som åt dig ler
Inunder armen tag.

First up, mate on the 3:12 train,
Rain on the window, steams up the pane.
Slumped in his hoodie, boots untied,
Dreams of a holiday, budget denied.
Calendar packed, phone battery dead,
But still he smiles, lifts up his head.
Life ain’t perfect, but hear what I say—
Breathe deep, love, it’s just another day.

Tycker du att dagen är för lång,
Trångt kontor och dresscode tvång
nå, välan än så hör då denna sång.
ta dig sen dito en, dito två, dito tre,
så går det lättare.

See her there, oat latte and toast,
Posting her brekkie, “I love me” post.
Ring light halo, filter glow,
Underneath it all, she’s just tryna grow.
Swaps her heels for battered flats,
Walks home alone past streetlamp splats.
Café philosophers, heart on sleeve,
Little sips of courage before she leaves.

You ever feel that weight?
Like you’re carrying sky bricks in a Tesco bag?
Same, mate. Keep walking.

Tycker du att världen känns för stor,
nå, välan så spring från storebror,
ta dig sen dito en, dito två, dito tre,
så går det lättare.

Old gent down the allotment rows,
Whispers to his tomatoes as they grow.
Wool cap, flask, Radio Wales hum,
Weather app says rain but the sun’s still come.
He lost someone once, don’t talk much,
Tends the soil with a gentle touch.
Weeds or wildflowers? Who’s to say?
All of us bloom in our own weird way.

Young lad skint, pockets all bare,
Friday pint ‘cos he still don’t care.
Mates on the WhatsApp, banter’s alive,
Takes the long route home just to survive.
Council flat lights, moon on the wall,
Swears at the stars but forgives them all.
Life ain’t golden, but still it’s bright,
Even cold chips taste good at midnight.

Tycker du att skatten är för hög,
Lön som aldrig dög, hela livet sög
nå, välan ta så chill drill, puff puff pass
ta dig sen dito en, dito två, dito tre,
så går det lättare, ser du de?

Parent at 4AM, bleary-eyed stare,
Rocking the baby, whispered prayer.
Milk-stained T-shirt, “We’re alright, yeah?”
Heartbeat lullaby fills the air.
One day they’ll grow, dance on their own,
But tonight you’re together, safe, homegrown.
Lean into the moment, don’t rush through,
Even messy love is the purest true.

Tycker du att natten är för lång,
Mata, byta, gång på gång.
nå, välan ta dig då en stund,
ta dig sen dito en, dito två, dito tre,
så hittar du tillbaka till dig själv lättare.

Säg är du nöjd? min granne säg,
Så prisa värden nu till slut;
Om vi ha en och samma väg,
Så följoms åt; drick ut.
Men först med vinet rött och vitt,
För vår Värdinna bugom oss,
Och halkom sen i graven fritt,
Vid aftonstjärnans bloss.

Song for dinner

Fazekas x 8jaxx - What I want

Vogue

It seemed as if the evening had taken wings and fled in an instant.

If you can see the shape of things to come,’ he says, ‘and then put yourself into what you see, you will find yourself there.

The birds knew the truth and they sang it.

She was just a girl on the little lake back,
barefoot in bramble, skipping though a clover track.
Mam close in tow, by thin, by thick,
two shapes above, black, slim and slick.
Could tell nor see, not really, just flight,
Small shadows cast bright in the morning light.
They perched like secrets on a crooked pine,
watchin’ her grow, in breath and time.

Eyes full of clouds, hands full of chalk,
homes on feet, made to walk. 
heard the world hum in under,
On the way to something, in sorrow and wonder.

Years go slow but the questions run,
what’s the shape of the soul? What blinds the sun?
She packed up her sketchbooks, train to train,
chasing joy, as slick as rain.
Huginn pulls to thought,
Munin plays the strings of heart,
two wings flappin' always apart.
Always, ever, where do you go
They soar just ahead of me,
Quick and slow.

Brittle bramble, broken brush,
Not of mind nor though as such.
Sketching silver in the sand,
Hearts and hopes hand in hand.
She looks for where the crowd do land
With every line, she caught their eyes,
they flew just ahead through foreign skies.

The girl and the crows, a heart to turn,
on wind and wonder, ash and fern.
Their path not straight, pulls in threads,
one from dreams, from what’s unsaid.
She walks, she draws, she breaks, she mends,
The path winds on, where does it end.

There’s a fire she lit by a salt-laced sea,
alone with her breath and the muttering breeze.
Said, “Why must you split me, I’m tired of both.
Of choosing between them, of bearing the growth.”
They circled low like a lullaby tide,
then landed, soft, where the shoreline cried.
Not gods, not ghosts, not voices divine,
just black in feathers, not to be define.

They sit, the sees, a wild worn breeze.
An ache in bone and heavy knees.
Wing take flight yet once more, but not to straybfar nor soar.
Upon her shoulders do they land, nothing spoken, no demands.
We are you, you are us.
The dew glimmers on the moss.

maybe that’s it, not choosing a wing,
holding both as parts of the same thing.
Heart held silence and roaring thought,
she’s made a home in the lines she’s wrought.
A house not built but drawn by hand,
with salt in the wood and stars in the sand.
Two birds perched by an open door,
on shoulders where doubt can't live no more.

Not always peace, but at her pace,
Now all roads lead to the same place.
The crows don't whisper, now they sing,
Of the road ahead and what it brings.

When you see her pass with charcoal and tea,
know she’s sketching a life where she’s meant to be.
Not running now, just walking still,
letting tides carve that hill.

“Would you like to be a field, maybe a lake?”
“Surprise me, for heaven’s sake!”
“With every stroke, I give you life,
From tranquil scenes to those of strife.”

She’s not the girl who feared the split,
she’s the woman who lives with all of it.
Two crows, one heart, one endless sky,
no need to ask where or why.

One for the thought, one for the flame,
both wear feathers, both bear your name.
When you walk with the storm, you become the calm.

Laughing child, a setting sun,
Whispered secrets, love begun.
All these moments, forever cast,
In the present, though born of the past.

The girl and the crow

We believe in the power of music to reach out to others, offering solace and a sense of belonging. Our lyrics explore the complexities of life, family, philosophy, spirituality, and the myriad emotions that define our journey. Through this music, we aim to shed light on the strategies of coping, the importance of resilience, and the unwavering belief in a brighter tomorrow.

The girl and the crow

Dancing salamanders

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