don't delete my baby, won't you always find. 

aussie indie + surf rock!

The TerrySonic Mixtape

Cost the Peace

I Touch Myself (triple j Like A Version)

When I Dream

Lost Tropics

Holiday

Yours to Keep

Cool & Calm

Yellow Mellow

DMA'S debut mini-album out May 18th (UK) / May 19th (US).

iTunes: http://smarturl.it/dmasitunes
Vinyl: http://smarturl.it/dmasvinyl
CD: http://smarturl.it/DMASCD

http://www.facebook.com/dmasdmas
http://www.twitter.com/dmasmusic
Instagram: @dmasmusic


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Music, mix & lyrics by @Guiville
Vocals by Libby
--
This track is inspired by one of the very first instrumental pieces I uploaded over 12 years ago. Huge thanks to Libby for bringing my lyrics to life with her beautiful vocals.

The original acoustic version can be found here: https://soundcloud.com/guiville/tess-be-kind 

The music itself was originally inspired by the 1956 film Tea and Sympathy, particularly the poignant line: "Years from now, when you talk about this, and you will be kind."
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tea_and_Sympathy_(film)_
https://www.imdb.com/video/vi4086416153/?ref_=ext_shr_lnk
--
This song captures the hollow feeling of landing the job you thought you wanted, only to find it slowly draining your spirit. The lyrics take a poetic, sideways look at modern work life, fluorescent lights, endless paperwork, and the quiet grief of trading your dreams for a steady paycheque. It’s about the tension between freedom and security, and the way routine can feel like a cage, even when you’ve built it yourself.
--
Lyrics:

I signed my name,
With trembling hand,
To a promise that pays,
But does not understand.

The clock strikes nine,
A funeral chime,
For the boy who once
Believed in rhyme.

The boss smiles thin,
Like a priest at sin,
And says, "Well done, you’ve made it."
But my soul stays vacant.

And I type, and I type,
'Til my fingers lose their fight,
In a room with no view,
Where the daylight feels untrue.

The vending machine,
Is my only friend,
It hums like mercy,
But eats my spend.

The laughter rings,
Like broken glass,
While my dreams are filed
Under “Never Ask.”

And I sign, and I sign,
On the dotted, cursed line,
While the ceiling caves in,
With fluorescent sin.

Oh, freedom is a coat
I wore when I was young,
Now moths and memories
Have chewed it undone.

So I leave at five,
But I’m never free,
This desk, this job,
It works for me.
It works for me.
Oh, it works on me.
--
12 years - 'You don't want to rush into these things' @subhero ; )

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DMA'S

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