the fact that you are not a household name as a composer is a crime. You are brilliant, sir

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Relaxing and dreamful piece I've written long time ago. Hope you'll enjoy it.

Raindrop

tittle track off of new ep coming soon to band camp video will be coming soon to you tube as well...thank you.
https://gate.sc/?url=https%3A%2F%2Ftravistopheles.bandcamp.com&token=69e4ae-1-1678305032185

The Piosoners Path

This track was made with Pigment 4, Synthmaster One, Synthmaster 2,CMI V & Spatk 2 (Perc/Toms/Congas,FX)

Wishes

YouTube Music Video for this Track
https://youtu.be/LiKuortJk70

Track Created on 06/15/2023
Music Composed & Mastered Using Studio One 6


BPM: 140
Time Signature 4/4

Absinthe

Image created by me.
https://www.deviantart.com/leehon/art/Heuristic-Corruption-955913350

An Error During Metempsychosis

Universal Soldier (Donovan Cover)

Big thanks to Kimbo for again providing the way cool FX to todays Blues Thursday post your awesome Bro. Guitar by little ol me.
Its been a while but we hope ya like our blend of Electro Fusion Blues
Hope to see ya checking in, hugs Al
Please check out Kimbo's music at link below:
@user-531942986

Electro Blues

Feel Good Blues

"Pull the skin over cold steel
blackened lungs won’t breathe but fire will!
Satiate my tongue with battery acid,
sign on the hill says NO ONE DANCES,
but white flags are waltzing on the oil stains,
on the blisters of hearth, rain, and bone;
animal skulls flower on clusters of speaker cones
that cry and wail and moan like cats in holes.

She drew her lips into a bullet kiss,
pumping black bellows spit and hiss
a jagged bit key goes into her breast -
with a sigh she spilled her guts and confessed,
there were red moths and butterflies inside her,
they flowed out in flaming streams into the rusted world,
we hollowed out the fair of spoiled grounds
and that old hungry grave ate our wounds.

They drew a circle around her iron feet, oh
how she’d loved the sweetness of honey teeth
we raised our dead anthems to burning fields
and gave up all we gathered, just bits of peels,
out where the slaves pumped and craved,
the howls of pain of their chains and broken wheels.
She made that old machine baby cry and squeal!
And sang the wastes to sleep with a tongue of steel!“

Sing the Wastes to Sleep

a bridge for the birds 

I’m the only words this song can hear. 
A bridge built for the birds - by thousands
I’m the motion of the wheels that slip their gears 
before a crash is heard.

Bring your Hearts to war on lightning legs and thrones,
if they strip you down - I’ll put you back on bones
I’ll tape you back together with strings and rocks and sticks,
the shapes of spoons and weather - and hope with all it fits;

but I’m the glass that breaks under the rushing broom,
the helpful words that got you down,
I’m the bus fare that sends you the wrong way home,
there’s nothing there but wilds and gloaming ones

Pins and needles in the pines will spark her fires 
hunters roving in the blooms with bloodshot thighs
Bring your ribbons. bring your robin’s eggs, and keys,
we’ll have a party with the bread ties and the bees.

I’m the rooftop that lets everyone reign in, a snail shell made for bullet slugs,
I’m the clogging of the bathtub in the rain-graveyard of bugs and mossy pails.

I saw the sailboats in their rocking waves. 
Wild and beating for their harbor trains.
I saw the streets with windows I would keep
fences kissing sidewalks with their teeth

but I’m the light that blinds you while you’re in the shade,
a plastic bag of crumbs. a hole inside in a lake.
my cherry teeth fangs sink deep then fade into the dust of
sidewalk chalk and not so dandy lion muck

and I know you’re never at my side
the broken records songs all play, 
are truer than lies.

So bring your Hearts to war on lightning legs,
and when they cut you down I’ll put you back on pegs;
I’ll string you back together with tape and rocks and sticks,
and forks of angry weather and hope with all, it fits.



art lifted from supremely talented illustrator/painter Ellis Nadler
https://www.flickr.com/photos/ellis-nadler/

a bridge for the birds

7-BIT HORSE
A river rusted the heavy metal under my skin
I got a magnet heart and its stuck with every nail and pin
I got 20 eye balls and 19 are blind, a rubber tongue that reeks of insecticide.
I got nobody close but I wish 
I had a creepy post-terrestrial lover of mine own

Mah’ fuzzy brain buzzes like the flies up in the attic
My voice is like a busted TV that’s haunted with the static
my face slumps like a seven-bit horse a’thrice mangled by a tractor off course -
and all the squirrels have left holes where the bugs n’ the beetles
like to munch down on my circuit boards.

I want a lover like a dreadful halloween bride. 
we’ll get a married in the ruby orange mellow of night 
and make the love underneath the big blood moons 
drippin’ down the mountain hide of June
we’ll roast fat raccoons on an iron spit. 
and suck anti-freeze from the tire pits.

The rain it rusted the copper gums under my fangs. 
I got one good back but the other’s got inscrutable pain 
I got 25 arms and 19 are shot, a rubber tongue that reeks of lichen and rot.
I don’t got nobody close but I wish 
I had a creepy preternatural lover of my own

I want a grisly abominable valentine
we’ll get hitched in the blood hot eventide
we’ll do the jelly underneath the bent scuff moon
inside a crevice full of eyebolts and screws 
and we’ll boil up a dead skunk in wiper fluid
and sip a little turpentine

Deathcrux

7-bit Horse

Your Death, it starts as a little seed that grows up big and tall 
soothe her to sleep with the wild belles of summer, ringing for autumn songs; 
her ribs have cravings oh how the needles pine, 
find her a true song before they bloom inside 
- 
One wants to save you. Until you’re all gone. 
Another would sell you for none. 
One only loves when they hate you the most, 
a wild grove of shadows and ghosts, 
old woods have cravings oh how the leaves they cry, 
find you an old moth before the night runs dry. 

the broomsticks will sweep out the circles and lines 
the lizard tails and planes 
sweep out the rainbows and colorful wilds 
crumbs of a carnival cake 

the broomsticks will sweep out the byways and aisles 
paper trams and trains 
sweep off the dark clouds and plentiful wilds the 
violet glacier caves 

Cradle death as a little thing and hold her close and warm - 
soothe her to sleep with the wild belles of summer, ringing for autumn songs; 
her ribs have cravings oh how the needles pine, 
find her a true song before they bloom inside

Sweep Out the Wilds

I hold the feathers 
I wrap the feathers 
around my skull 
I draw ten stars 
around my face 
Raise your fires 
burn it all down to sleep. 
It’s a little thing. 
We’re little things. 
all the ones I know have names 
the garden. 
Buried down 
inside the keep 
how sharp 
the thorn feels 
how much blood 
a word can draw 
gardens buried. 
so deep down 
inside the keep 
I’ll hold feathers 
I’ll wrap the feathers 
around my skull 
I draw ten stars around my face 
the fire knows the how of 
dreaming deep 
oh dreaming deep 
the garden buried. 
so deep down inside the keep. 
inside wandering on my felon feet 
I draw a thorn that bleeds of sleep. 
Draw a red key. 
the one you need. 
to set you free. 
from that cage you build so deep inside a dream 
how sharp. a word can be 
how they seem like black ants high in a tree 
such little things. 
we’re little things 
a dream so deep inside the keep 
we’re flower skin. 
leaves and limbs. 
all flowering. 
and blooming 
everything
everything

artwork by Me

Flesh Flowers

We hold the dark of sighs in howling creatures sweet as young;
the hours never turn for those who ride the raving backs of bats and brooms.
Forever’s haunted dress unfolds; whatever is severed from 
the shadow of the storm we will claim as ours to Love.  
For you that holds the midnight, without a grave or home,
be steadfast we will come to take you in the fold as one.

The pumpkin moon is still coming for the burning heart still slaves;
never let them snuff you out, so beautiful and brave.
The harvest moon is still coming to reap the heart that stays true;
never is a poison kiss as beautiful as you.

Hold to your blooms and sweep up the roofs; 
the stars will come raining down.
Old willow, dance with me.
Some day you know, the blues of the black sky,
will dry its tears and wipe us all away.

The pumpkin moon is still coming, for the truest heart still yearns
I’ll never let them snuff you out so beautiful you burn

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Bats & Brooms

Songster, Composer, & Sound Mangler

Warbling sea harbored melodies - rhythmic tintinnabulary cabalettas inside soft baked fairy tale threnodies - lilting moontouched theramins and/or psychic lithographs of balloons, barns, and braided banana leaves - sleeping during dogwatch in the crosstrees by the languid moans of threadbare weatherboards - gritty euphonic lo-fi transmissions from long dead moon farms - invocations from antique radios short circuiting in cool spring rain.

This is for the anchors which bind the sugar to the orange.
For summoning unseasonal titans to storm the calamity of drab hours, out of ether,
the cloud throned dumplings who give suck to fat breasted delight and unabashed waking -
the blimpy sprites who gratify each naked fig by imbibing their mistaken turns
into the cotton headed sighs of unloved mouse trap music. 



My work has been featured on various Netlabels, film experiments, and worldwide radio shows, including BBC6's "Introducing".

Welcome!  I'm a composer and arrangement cover artist of acoustic instrumentals. Here you'll find layered parts, played by myself in most tracks - a few are recorded in collaboration.  
I play a multitude of genres and styles. Minor keys and progressions are my jam.  Epic Renaissance//Acoustic Metal//Film Score//Celtic//Western//Minor Lullabies and other melodies.
Appreciate your stopping in!  If you like what you hear, check my channel out on YouTube as well!

a bridge for the birds

Darius Greene

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