The Clock Forgot to Chime is a delicate lo-fi bossa nova track that floats through soft breath, empty air, and the heaviness of a moment lost. With nylon guitar, ambient textures, and close-mic female vocals, it captures a space between presence and memory. The ticking fades. The chime never comes. And still, someone waits. A song for still afternoons, rainy glass, and the hush between thoughts. Clean mix. No vinyl crackle.

[LYRICS]

Rain on glass and time grows heavy
The lamp glows dim beside the window
When the light fades… all that lingers
Is breath

Oh, but I sit and keep waiting
How do I name what is missing?
I would reach out… but air is empty
And still I sit alone in the hush

The room stays still, lost in shadow
No breath, no breeze, no new echo
A quiet hangs, just out of rhythm
Then… it fades

Oh, but I sit and keep waiting
How do I name what is missing?
I would reach out… but air is empty
The clock forgot to chime

The clock… forgot to chime.

The Clock Forgot to Chime

A breezy, female-led uptempo Contemporary R&B groove blending the warmth of Retro Soul, the intimacy of Singer-Songwriter storytelling, and a touch of Pop Rap phrasing. At 96 BPM in A minor, Keep It Easy and Slow carries golden-hour energy—sunset streets, warm winds, and rhythms that feel like home. Every lyric moves with an easy sway, from the streetlight shimmer of Verse 1 to the late-night glow of Verse 2, tied together by a chorus that invites you to relax into the moment. Smooth yet vibrant, this track celebrates connection, presence, and the joy of letting the music guide you. Perfect for evening drives, rooftop sessions, or anywhere the night feels alive.

[LYRICS]

Sun slips low, throwin’ gold down the streets
Warm wind hums where the day and night meets
Steps keep time, let the sway fill the air
Every beat knows what stories we share

Let it roll, let it ride, keep it easy and slow
Like the tide on the sand, let the rhythm just go 
Every move, every glance, feels a little like home
In this groove, in this light, we are never alone

Shadows lean, in the glow of the night
Sweet notes fall, turnin’ cool into light
Hands draw lines that the night understands
Every heart sways to beats it commands

Let it roll, let it ride, keep it easy and slow
Like the tide on the sand, let the rhythm just go
Every move, every glance, feels a little like home
In this groove, in this light, we are never alone

No rush, no fight, just the breath that we keep
Your smile in the hush settles soft and deep
We’re here, we’re now, and the world can wait
It’s real, it’s ours, let it show and celebrate

Let it roll, let it ride, keep it easy and slow
Like the tide on the sand, let the rhythm just go
Every move, every glance, feels a little like home
In this groove, in this light, we are never alone

Keep It Easy and Slow - Uptempo Contemporary R&B with Retro Soul & Singer-Songwriter Vibe

This track begins with a raw a cappella delivery before opening into a full instrumental arrangement — a “hybrid a cappella” reimagination of Stanisław Sojka’s timeless Tolerancja. Performed in English, it carries forward his message of empathy and humanity with a new voice while honoring the heart of the original. Piano, acoustic guitar, warm bass, brushed drums, light ride cymbal, tambourine shimmer, and violin swells join the vocal to build depth and warmth.

For Polish listeners, I ask grace for the poetic liberties in translation. Every effort was made to stay faithful to Sojka’s intent, even as the words were reshaped to flow in English.

[LYRICS]

Why don’t we speak of wounds that ache, in plain?
To build up walls around the heart’s in vain.
A gentle word, a hand upon my skin,
At times that’s all I crave, all I seek within

For mercy’s sake,
Life’s not a thing to only take.
Life’s not to drift in endless wait,
To truly live, your soul must dedicate.

Your cares and mine, our fights, the world’s affairs,
As hairs upon the head are numbered, so our days
Let the faultless be the first to cast the stone,
For far from Paradise is where they stand alone.

For mercy’s sake,
Life’s not a thing to only take.
Life’s not to drift in endless wait,
To truly live, your soul must dedicate.

Tolerance • Hybrid A Cappella (English Tribute to Tolerancja)

“Sugar & Steam” leans into a classic bossa nova backbone with contemporary vocal intimacy and jazz-flavored harmony. The pace is unhurried and downtempo, the palette is nylon guitar, upright bass, brushed kit, and a gentle shaker, with the lyric tracing a playful café ritual that turns into a quiet yes. Think modern lounge warmth with a songwriter’s focus on clear storytelling.

If you like intimate bossa and soft-jazz textures with a simple, romantic arc, this is made for late mornings and late nights alike.

[LYRICS]

I push the door the morning spins,
There you stand behind the tins.
Eyes like amber, soft and free,
I lose my words, you’re all I see.

You lean and ask “the same as ever?”
That gentle voice too smooth, too clever.
I nod too quick, my breath held tight,
What I mean is you, if that’s alright.

You sketch a heart as if in play,
Then you write my name, real thick.
It makes me blink, in a quiet way,
I try to speak but words won’t stick.

You turn to brew my morning fix,
The steam rolls high in swirl and mix.
But what I crave is only you,
You’re all I need, not just the brew.

You ask how sweet, surprise me
The crowd drifts off, the counter’s free.
You lift and smile, a gentle gleam,
Then brush my wrist and pass the steam.

Warm and bright the steam still rising,
Behind the counter you keep smiling.

And when you touch me,
I breathe and start to smile too…

I just had to smile too…
Oh, I had to smile too…
Yes — I smiled with you too…

Sugar & Steam - A Bossa Nova Romance at Café Bossa • Jazz • Contemporary

A concert aria written in the operatic tradition, expanding on the lyrical theme of “No Man’s Heart Aches Forever.” This work stands apart from its earlier folk-ballad incarnation, reimagined here as an epic lament and vow of endurance. The piece explores anguish and determination through shifting tonal landscapes, lyrical manipulation, and thematic transition. Neither purely opera nor folk, it belongs to an experimental cycle that bridges chamber music, aria form, and modern expressive narrative.

[LYRICS]

I held through night’s unspoken storm,
wrote down your name in every flame.
Time seemed to halt—its breath was warm
yet love stayed mute when called by name.
The clocks cried out against the moon;
I begged the stars to change their tune…

But even sorrow learns a thread
that loosens gently as it’s led;
a melody beneath the pain
that softens, drifting like the rain.
And something quiet in the air
begins to teach the heart to bear

No man’s heart aches forever,
though it may break each day;
the storms will pass, the skies grow brighter,
and pain will drift away.

I watched the tide deny the shore,
the shadow cross the bedroom door;
I learned to breathe in broken light,
to nurse a spark through longest night.
If grief must come, then let it speak—
I will not bend, but I’ll be meek.
For still a mercy moves like dawn,
and finds the world it falls upon.

No man’s heart aches forever,
though midnight begs it stay;
the thunder fades, the hush grows wiser,
and pain is swept away.

So let the night be gentler now,
let silence keep its patient vow;
the breath I lost returns at last—
a smaller grief, a larger vast.
I do not ask the stars to lie;
I learn instead to let them shine.

No man’s heart aches forever,
though it may feel that way;
for even grief surrenders slowly
to dawn’s forgiving ray.

I stand, I breathe, I mend, I rise—
I lift my gaze to brighter skies;
What broke by night by day is mended,
the song resumes where sorrow ended.
Beat after beat, the heart learns how:
it breaks and yet it keeps its vow.

No heart breaks on forever!
No darkness owns the day!
The storm that tried to name me
has washed its name away.
No heart breaks on forever!
I claim the living way—
the light returns, the pulse remembers,
and pain is borne away.

So let the dawn be soft and sure,
let every wound turn less and pure;
for where the night once learned to stay,
the morning asks to lead the way.
No man’s heart aches forever…
The clocks fall quiet—
the heart keeps time… and stays.

A3-S3 No Man’s Heart Aches Forever (Aria da Concerto • Neo-Opera • Baritone • Orchestral)

A baritone aria da concerto that transforms the Teddington folk ballad into a tragic operatic epic. Blending chamber orchestra, dark lyricism, and folk-rooted imagery, the piece unfolds from hushed recitativo into storm-driven cabaletta, before closing in a hushed moral coda. Pride, love, betrayal, and fate collide in a performance that bridges folk tradition with operatic power.

[LYRICS]

A holiday, the skies were pale;
I crossed the sea with heart grown frail.
To Teddington I came to rest,
With questions heavy in my chest.

A Duke walked slow through river mist,
His cloak was dark, his hands tight-fist.
His love—the Queen—had gone away,
Yet left her ink to stain the day.

O hearts may flee, and spades may judge,
Yet pride must pay its toll;
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul.

The Queen of Hearts had turned to flame,
She wrote of love and fled from blame.
With one who vowed they both be free,
A stranger lost to land and sea.

The King of Spades, with cold command,
Passed letters by a trembling hand;
Each seal a blow the Duke endured,
Each word a wound no balm had cured.

“No blade,” he said, “cut quite as deep
As love betrayed and left to weep.”
“I wore my pride like battle steel
And now I know how loss can feel.”

O hearts may flee, and spades may judge,
Yet pride must pay its toll;
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul.

The Queen has sailed, the King stands still,
The Duke must bear the empty will;
And I, who crossed to heal my mind,
Stood mute before the weeping wind.
Let hearts take flight and spades pronounce
Pride’s debt will still be paid!
The cards were laid in Teddington
And fate’s decree was made!

Let hearts take flight and spades pronounce
The tally takes its toll!
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul!

O hearts may flee, and spades may judge…
Yet pride must pay its toll;
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul.

So mark this tale and learn it true:
The kind may bleed, the proud may rue.
Though kings may reign and queens may run,
Some fall the hardest when undone.

O hearts may flee, and spades may judge…
Yet pride must pay its toll;
The cards were laid in Teddington
And sorrow took the soul.

A1-S4 The Cards Were Laid in Teddington — Aria da Concerto (Baritone • Operatic • Tragic • Folk)

Eternal Truth – Aria da Concerto is a storm-forged operatic lament for baritone soloist and male chorus. Blending classical form with epic, modern intensity, it unfolds as a journey from silence into struggle, from fracture into revelation.

The aria begins with a solemn recitativo secco, invoking stillness before flame, silence before speech. The arioso rises with reflection, bearing witness to light even as time and truth are fractured. The choral invocation swells with collective strength, guiding the soul through silence toward resilience.

A darker chorus of voices and shadows follows — whispers, foam, wind, and fleeting words that cannot bind what endures. The cabaletta bursts in thunder and steel, a defiant surge where each wound refines, each stumble teaches, and no storm can sunder the vowed path.

At the aria’s heart lies the climactic expansion, a maxim delivered with operatic force:
“No blade,” is said, “cuts quite as deep,
As failure nursed to make us weep.
Let’s wear our pride like battle steel;
And embrace the truth that loss reveals.”

From rubble and sorrow blooms renewal — silence becomes guide, and tears give life to the soul’s flower. The return and transformation recall the opening lines but with greater power, reshaped by struggle.

The coda closes in sweeping inevitability:
So it was, and so it is,
Time will break, and time will mend.
At stillness’ edge, a hope unending extends,
And sorrow’s chain at last will end.

Forged in silence and storm, Eternal Truth stands as both lament and triumph: a testament that truth endures, unbroken by the passing of time or the weight of sorrow.

[LYRICS]

Rise, O soul, into the stillness,
Before the word, before the flame;
Here the sands hold their witness
Here the stars keep no count or name.

Time was whole before the fight,
Light was vast before the night;
Rise, O witness, and lift your sight,
Bear the truth to wake the light.
From the rubble, forge a tower,
So tears may nurse the soul’s flower.

There is motion deep within stillness;
It carries us onward, steady and true;
And opens the soul to living wholeness;
A timeless voice, guiding all we do.
From the rubble, forge a tower,
So tears may nurse the soul’s flower.

Words may follow as we’re walking,
Whispers follow, softly talking;
They break like foam upon the shore;
They fade like wind, they are no more.
What is said before us or behind us
Cannot bind us, or confine us;
The stone may strike, its fragments fly;
Yet truth endures; it cannot die.

Come, let us tumble; let us fall;
We accept it, one and all!
For in the breaking, there’s the sign,
The strength to rise is yours and mine.
Each stumble teaches, each wound refines,
It makes us stand with straighter spine.
No thief of fate, no storm shall sunder
Our vowed path, nor steal our thunder.

“No blade,” is said, “cuts quite as deep,
As failure nursed to make us weep.
Let’s wear our pride like battle steel;
And embrace the truth that loss reveals.”
Now the silence is our true guide,
And sorrow’s seed will turn the tide;
From the rubble, forge a tower,
So tears may nurse the soul’s flower.

Time was whole before the fight,
Light was vast before the night,
Now in the silence we will find our might,
From the rubble, forge a tower,
So tears may nurse the soul’s flower.

So it was, and so it is,
Time will break, and time will mend.
At stillness’ edge, a hope unending extends,
And sorrow’s chain at last will end.

A1-S1 Eternal Truth – Aria da Concerto (Operatic Lament • Baritone • Forged in Silence and Storm)

Scene 3 from the cycle Chains of Sorrow.
The Footbridge is written in a Neo-Classical / Modern Classical style — a hybrid of traditional aria form with contemporary textures. Rather than staged opera, it functions as a concert aria, blending baritone solo and male chorus with chamber ensemble (strings, harp, winds, and subtle percussion).

The piece explores a moment of suspended recognition: the awareness that choices must be made, though clarity never arrives. The baritone voice carries self-questioning phrases, answered and expanded by the chorus, while the orchestration shifts between hushed reflection and urgent surges.

Not tragic but reflective, the music dwells in ambiguity, carrying the listener into the tension between doubt and resilience.

[LYRICS]

Dark were the days of deep despair,
White were the nights of solace rare;
I stood where shadows veil the air,
And sorrow’s weight consumed me there.

I stand between two roads of old,
Each with promise, bright and bold;
The bridge beneath bears not a name,
Yet none who cross return the same.

No guide remains, no hand to lead,
The heart must guard its quiet need;
For choices cut and choices bind,
But silence cuts the deepest kind.

The vessel empties, poured out free;
The stream runs dry, cut from its source.
To walk this path, I must be still;
To bear the weight, I keep my course.

What heart can give when thirsts in vain?
What hand can heal when bound by pain?
I drink from silence, breathe like tide,
That I may stand where paths divide.

The vessel empties, poured out free;
The stream runs dry, cut from its source.
To walk this path, I must be steady;
To bear the weight, I keep my course.

The vessel must fill ere it pour,
The root must drink to bloom once more.

The vessel must fill ere it pour,
The root must drink to bloom once more.

The fog awaits with quiet hand,
To test the path, to mark the stand.

I crossed the bridge, then turned around,
Unsure which side was truly mine;
The fog then curled and closed around,
And blurred each boundary line.

I crossed the bridge, then turned again,
Unsure which side was ever mine;
The fog then veiled the path I trod,
And blurred all boundary lines.

The rail was cold beneath my hand,
As the river rolled dark below;
Its voice was low, a mournful strand,
And echoed what I’ve come to know.

The rail was cold beneath my hand,
As the river rolled dark below;
Its voice was low, yet deeper still,
And echoed what I’ve come to know.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the very start;
But fog is kind to those who wait
And listen with a faithful heart.

A bell rang, time drawn in to full,
A boat slipped slowly out of view;
I felt the moment strain and pull,
Yet still I never truly knew.

Two sides, two lives, both calling out,
Yet neither one could give me peace.
The bridge became a place of doubt,
Where second thoughts find no release.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the very start;
But fog is kind to those who wait
And listen with a faithful heart.

Some choices bloom like morning light,
While others drift like distant mist.
The wiser path is rarely bright,
Yet still a truer way will persist.

Not every road is meant to show
Its ending from the start.

But still I crossed that bridge again,
And followed what I knew was right;
And doubt itself can lead us home—
Yes, at the last, it leads us home.

The self must feed, the self must grow,
Or none may walk where choices go.
For silence guides and silence shows,
The strength that every spirit owes.

The self must feed, the self must grow,
Or none may walk where choices go.


A1-S3 The Footbridge – Aria da Concerto (Baritone • Reflective • Neo-Classical)

Ashes in the Shape of You is a grand aria of Act III — Loss and Aftermath in Chains of Sorrow (Neo-Opera). It begins in quiet grief, the baritone voice tracing memory in ash and smoke, answered by a hushed chorus.

Through lyrical arioso and cantabile expansion, remembrance deepens into recognition: love remains in what endures, even as flame and presence fade. The aria rises into a determined cabaletta, where grief is not abandoned but carried forward — transfigured into strength.

This scene embodies intimate remembrance made universal, closing with the refrain: “Ashes… in the shape of you.”

[LYRICS]

The fire is gone… the room stays warm.
The smoke hangs low… the quiet forms.
The walls remember what we knew,
Outlined in ash… the shape of you.

Your touch still lives where embers stayed,
A faint perfume of what we made.
Each breath I draw pulls memory through,
From coals that glow… the heart turns true.

Ashes… in the shape of you.
No flame left… yet the burn feels true.
Every breath pulls the memory through.
From what was left… you’re all I knew.

The clock keeps time in tender air,
Yet hours pale… you are not there.
Each minute casts a deeper hue,
A room of ash… the shape of you.
I trace the marks the fire drew,
They bloom again… as if they knew.
I try to breathe a clearer view,
But smoke returns… and brings you through.

Be still… breathe slow…
Hold fast… let go…

Some flames give up to sudden rain.
Some fade so slow… yet prints remain.
I sweep the floor… the lines break through,
Drawn back to life… the shape of you.

I press my palm where soot is thin,
A shadow hand invites me in.
The room is quiet, dusk is new,
And still it writes… the tale of you.

Ashes… in the shape of you.
No flame left… yet the burn feels true.
Every breath pulls the memory through.
From what was left… you’re all I knew.

If fire must end, then let it teach.
If light must fade, what can I reach?
A softer spark, a kinder view,
A way to live… and carry you.

I lift the latch, I face the night,
I claim the wind, I keep a light.
If ashes call, I will stand new,
I will not drown in only you.
Let morning rise, let windows blue,
Let love be more than smoke and rue.
From ember’s edge a life breaks through,
I choose the path… and carry you.

Ashes… in the shape of you.
No flame left… yet the burn feels true.
Every breath pulls the memory through…
In the ashes… shaped like you.

A3-S2 — Ashes in the Shape of You (Grand Aria • Neo-Opera • Baritone & Chorus • Orchestral)

A sly companion to Sugar & Steam. Retro Soul warmth, Neo-Soul flow, and Contemporary R&B polish orbit one idea: a wink that voids the terms. Clauses, margins, and signatures fold into touch and breath. The bridge opens just enough for light Jazz color, then the hook returns with a grin. Signed in lipstick, sealed in desire. Foreplay. No Parlay.

[Lyrics]

Yeah…

Yeah…
I had a plan.
A speech.
A stance.
Then you… just had to glance.

I showed up sharp, contract in hand, 
Knew every clause, every last demand.
Tie set straight, my shoes all shine,
Heart locked tight, mind on the line.
You leaned in close, put skin in the game,
No foul, no fault, but I still took the blame.

I…
Mmm…
I trained my mouth to tell you no,
But every look said let it go.

It was the wink that broke the deal,
No counters, no terms, no time to appeal.
You got me good, you signed me blind,
Now I’m bound to you, and I don’t mind.
No I don’t mind.
No I don’t mind.

Lines struck clean, pages ribbed for pleasure,
Margins bend beyond all measure.
Stripped to the bone, the clauses bare,
Redlines gone, protections laid there.
Mmm… here you go…
One last stroke, clause torn;
Consider satisfaction duly sworn.

I had spreadsheets, dates, and charts,
You brought lipstick and the Queen of Hearts.
I built a wall, I drew the line,
And you crossed it, looking fine.

It was the wink that broke the deal, 
Turned my logic into how I feel.
I dropped the script, I missed the cue,
And now my closing line is you.

So here’s my heart, no NDA,
You win, now lead the way.
Forget the fine print, let’s just seal 
This kiss, that wink, that final deal.

You win.
Now lead the way.

Signed for good, no terms, no delay.
No back-and-forth, no talk today;
Foreplay. No Parlay. 

You win. Now lead the way.
You win. Now lead the way.

Mmm…

You win. Now lead the way.
You win. Now lead the way.

Mmm…

You win. Now lead the way.
You win. Now lead the way.

Yeah, that’s how we play.

Foreplay. No Parlay. (Neo-Soul • Retro Soul • Contemporary R&B • Jazz-tinged) -mastered

A warm lo-fi soul confessional about quiet comfort and second chances. Close-mic vocals sit just behind the beat, trading fireworks for feeling. Soft, rounded drums, gentle saturation, and a hush of blues color keep the groove unhurried. It plays like a late-night reassurance note, ending with a tender fade on “just out of sight.”

[LYRICS]

Lost and found, funny place
you never know till you do

I’ll be your umbrella
when the sky lets go
I’ll be your glasses
when the world’s a blur.
I’ll be your small lighter
when the power’s out
your calm in the thunder
when you’re full of doubt

They say what’s lost
ain’t always gone
sometimes it waits
to lean on.

I’m your lost and found
when the world spins round
a friend at your side
when you’re feeling down
button for your coat
when it will not close
the flower you pressed
in a book no one knows

That one glove you lost
yes sir, I’m her
I’ll be your map
when you lose your street
that lucky coin
waiting under your seat
I’ll be your charger
when your spark runs weak

I’ve been forgotten
and I’ve worn some dust
still I’m your mirror
when you need to trust

I’m your lost and found
when the world spins round
come find me again
when you’re feeling down

I was yours all along
just out of sight

Just out of sight

Lost and Found (A Soulful Night)

I’ve always lived at the crossroads of music and poetry — where feeling becomes form, and melody turns memory into meaning. Whether it’s a lingering jazz note, a well-placed rhyme, or a shift in tempo that tells a deeper story, I’m drawn to that quiet magic where art reflects life with a little more style.

My roots are in classic music — the kind that doesn’t chase the moment but lingers with you long after the last note. Over time, that love expanded into poetry writing and jazz — especially the kind that swings, speaks, and smirks all at once. Jazz, to me, isn’t just a genre; it’s a personality. A conversation. A little tilt of the head and a grin that knows more than it says.

When I set out to create an album, it’s rarely just a collection of songs. I approach it like a personal playlist — one that drifts and flows as if the entire tracklist were one long, uninterrupted piece. Each track leans into the next, shifting mood, pace, or voice, but always carrying the same thread of feeling. I want you to listen the way I do — not as a shuffle of moments, but as a cinematic arc. One breath that lasts an hour.

Lyrically, my work is rooted in lived experience. Sometimes it’s obvious. Other times it’s just the skeleton of a memory, dressed up in wit, irony, or longing. I draw from real-life events, then let the poet in me twist, stretch, or sweeten them to taste. Depending on the tone of the album — playful, romantic, nostalgic, or something in between — I try to keep the emotional truth intact while giving it a fresh coat of creativity. A little humor where it fits. A deeper dive where it hurts.

My newest jazz album continues this tradition — short-lined swing tracks, conversational duets, and tongue-in-cheek storytelling. It’s an homage to late-night alleyway ballads, rooftop serenades, and train station goodbyes — all bound together with a sense of charm and cohesion. Each song is its own little scene, but together they tell a story — one you can revisit with each replay.

Thanks for stopping by my profile. I hope you find something that earns a spot on your repeat-play list — a melody, a lyric, or a moment that feels like it was written just for you.

The Clock Forgot to Chime

Dikheel Aldikheel

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