Name: Enough, Saturn (witch version) by Eclectic Whiz
Duration: 5 min 9 s
Description: 🪄 It opens with familiar tones before plunging into murky bass lines and ethereal howls.

Cover, Original from System Of a Down
Written By Daron Malakian

I listened to this song on a continuous loop after the separation from my son, it is filled with deep emotions for me.

Mixing and Mastering with the extraordinary help of Frozen Beats:

@frozen-beats

This is a non commercial recording,
if anyone is interested or offended please contact me

Erscheinungsdatum :
3. August 2025

Lonely Day - Cover

So there is a Monday by Maximiliano (Live from the Studio DC, 8,5,25) Minimal

🪄 It opens with familiar tones before plunging into murky bass lines and ethereal howls.

Screaming. Casting. Bleating.

Take Home

Enough, Saturn (witch version)

Gotta bring this one back too😇😆😈


Why are you so
Pretty
I'm so silly
A deadly hobby

Why is this love
Oh no
Now I don't know
How to let go

Heaven is for good
Good boys who are gone
But I won't be one
I'll be someone else

Love is my work
My work is life
My life is pain
Pain is your love
Your love is death
And death is you
Your love is you
And I love you

Heaven is for good
Good boys who are gone
But I won't be one
I'll be someone else

Why is this love
Oh no
Now I don't know
How to let go

Your love is war
I fight to lose
Pull the trigger
I embrace your danger

Heaven is for good
Good boys who are gone
But I won't be one
I'll be someone else

Those eyes says stay
Hands saying I should run
Again, I'm a fool
And I call it fun

Heaven is for good
Good boys who are gone
But I won't be one no
'Cause I'll be
I'll be someone else

La-la-la-la-la-la
Whoa-oh-whoa-oh
La-la-la-la-la-la
Whoa-oh-whoa-oh
La-la-la-la-la-la
Whoa-oh-whoa-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh
La-la-la-la-la-la
Whoa-oh-whoa-oh

I die in dreams
Where you don’t call
Yet I'll rise again
To beg and fall

Love is a riddle
I answer with pain
You laugh like a song
I cry in refrain
Heaven is silence
Hell is your name
I lose every time
But still play the game

Heaven is for good
Good boys who are gone
But I won't be one



Heaven is for Good Boys 😇

Blue is Not Your Style is a gentle Country song that carries a message of kindness and comfort.
The story begins inside a quiet barroom where sadness hangs heavy in the atmosphere.
A man notices a woman sitting alone, and it is clear she has been hurt by love gone wrong.
Instead of letting her drown in sorrow, he chooses to offer a smile and gentle warmth.
The lyrics remind us that nobody deserves to feel blue for too long in their life.
With heartfelt Country storytelling, the song carries themes of hope, healing, and compassion.
Every verse is written as a promise to lift someone up and remind them of their worth.
The melody blends classic Country tones with a modern emotional soundscape.
It is a track created for broken hearts and for anyone needing kindness to carry them forward.
Above all, it is a reminder that joy, not sadness, is your true and natural style.

Listen on your platform:
Push.fm: https://push.fm/fl/ugzbhjwo
Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/2qzn8X3AOQUokEPJlIHsY8?si=NJDzjK9TRwi7Of1D6hSWMw
SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/keith-jones-281413858
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@KeithJones-xs1jr
PayPal: https://paypal.me/KeithJonesTorquayQLD

Lyrics
Blue is Not Your Style

Watching you sitting alone at that bar tonight
It was obvious that something was not right
You looked like someone had done you wrong
All I could think was your too beautiful to look that way (ooooh ooooh)

I am thinking, if you were mine, I would treat you like fine wine
There would be no way you would be sitting here looking so blue
I am going to try and catch your eye, and see if I can make you smile
Would make me feel better, if I knew you were ok, just a smile

You’re so fine need to see you smile (smile)
Gonna, stay right here until I make you smile (smile)
Can’t believe someone could make you fell this blue
Certainly, not what you deserve, I’m gonna make you smile 

Hey there, see you sitting there, but can’t help but notice you’re looking blue
If you don’t mind,
I am going to sit right down here, until I see you smile 
That’s what I’m going to do, cause I’m telling you Blue is not your style (oooooh no)

You’re so fine need to see you smile (smile)
Gonna, stay right here until I make you smile (smile)
Can’t believe someone could make you fell this blue
Certainly, not what you deserve, I’m gonna make you smile 

Let’s pick that chin up off the floor, whatever, whoever did this (yeah)
It is time to move on, gotta tell you, and it is true, you are, to fine to be blue (not you)
It is time to smile, yeah smile, cause I’m telling you Blue is not your style (oooooh no)

You’re so fine need to see you smile (smile)
Gonna, stay right here until I make you smile (smile)
Can’t believe someone could make you fell this blue
Certainly, not what you deserve, I’m gonna make you smile  (ooooh ooooh ooooh oooooh yeah, that’s better)

Keywords
gentle country song, kindness, comfort, barroom, sadness, hurt by love, smile and warmth, healing, compassion, promise, classic country tones, modern emotional soundscape, broken hearts, kindness to carry, joy not sadness

#countrymusic #countrylife #newmusic #livemusic #nashville #countryside #music #artist #countryartist #countrymusiclover #southernmusic #countryvibe #countrygram #traditionalcountry #altcountry

Blue is Not Your Style

Blue is Not Your Style – Gentle Country Song of Kindness and Comfort

I said I wasnt leaving but I left I said it didn't hurt I wasn't bleeding but I'm dead

vengance

Music video: https://youtu.be/1Fw3n-lUjyI

Peak‑time hard techno through a living corridor—strap in for the dropless rush.
Warehouse‑grade drive, hypnotic pulse—space‑rave energy from first beat to last.
Acid sparks, industrial weight, cinematic pulse—one‑way ticket to peak hour.

(●'◡'●)
Stream / download / buy ➜
(❁´◡`❁)
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/grass-patch-bum/1596136340
☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆
https://soundcloud.com/grasspatchbum
ᓚᘏᗢ


The Story ➜
The spool looked like a scar the color of thunderclouds. It sat on a velvet square inside a pressure‑sealed vial, not turning so much as remembering how to. You didn’t pick it up with your hands; you picked it up with your oath.

“I need a name for the record,” said the clerk behind the counter. Her office floated at the edge of the Tangled Dock, where ships moored like insects under the belly of a sleeping leviathan. The walls were utilitarian alloy engraved by a patient hand into simple repeating tessellations—triangles drifting into hexagons, hexagons into twelve‑pointed starbursts. When the station lights dimmed for cycle-change those carvings did a strange thing with shadow, a faint color‑split that made them seem to breathe.

“Ilyra Vale,” I said. “Courier class. Solo.” I let my thumb rest on the imprinted pad. It tasted my blood and pretended to be surprised.

The clerk glanced at her slate, not at me. People who work too long where the Dock meets the Loom learn to look slantwise at reality. “Destination?”

“Uncertain.”

The smile she gave me was the bureaucratic version of a shrug. “Then I’ll put Anomalous / Designated by Cargo.” She slid the vial through the pass window. “You know the penalty for threading without registration.”

“I’ve never pretended otherwise.”

“Then sign the waiver that absolves us of ever having known you.” The clerk’s smile became human. “And don’t die in a stupid way.”

I slotted the vial into the Spindle Heart I wore over my sternum and felt the little tremor go through my chest. The Spindle was a ring of spun glass riddled with filament paths; when it accepted cargo it warmed like tea between hands. The moment the spool touched its cradle, the filaments shifted and the warmth became a soft, insistent pulse—not yet and hurry at the same time.

My vessel waited in Bay Thirty‑Two, a small thing built for stupid jobs. The hull had the matte look of an instrument that spends more time listening than shouting. Three phase‑sails folded along her spine; her name, stenciled under the docking lights, had been painted and sanded off and painted again until it refused to take any pigment. Names cling and weigh. I called her Ravel because she unmade tangles.

Docking clamps sighed; bay doors yawned like the eye of an animal that forgives you for riding in its skull. Ravel pushed away from Tangled Dock and let the black close over us like cool water. The Spindle Heart ticked in my ribs. The spool pulsed once, as if testing my attention.

“Go ahead,” I told it. “Point.”

It didn’t point. Impossible threads never do. They incline. It was like standing in a room where a good song has started somewhere nearby and knowing which doorway will make it louder. My hands did a thousand familiar things in response—trimmed the vector, unfurled the first sail, feathered the second. Ravel angled toward a star that wasn’t there and away from one that was.


ಥ_ಥ
Merch Shop : https://grass-patch-bum-shop.fourthwall.com
o(*^＠^*)o
https://open.spotify.com/artist/3q0KcTUD3hmRdi1SUWd6VL
https://grasspatchbum.bandcamp.com/
https://grasspatchbum.com/
ㄟ(≧◇≦)ㄏ
Support the tunes:
https://paypal.me/grasspatchbum


#techno   #musicvideo   #trippyvisuals   #technomusic  #visualizer   #undergroundtechno   #musicvisualizer   #melodictechno    #4kvideo   #4kvisuals   #psychedelicvisuals

Courier of Impossible Threads | Scifi Music Video on Youtube

Like an Angel

Holy Spiritual Love

For the work a day blues 💙

Mix of synthwave, classical, electronic and film music. 

There's a similar song on my YouTube channel "Noisy Paykatsam," called "Hello to the darkness." They came from the same project, so I call these kinds of songs "sibling songs." 
For me, this song belongs in October. (Spooktober) 👻🎃😈🦇🕷️🕸️

🖤🩶

upload: 29.09.2025

Don't call the dark side

Brewing genre-bending beats, sparking with glitches, and a little chaos or magick

Enough, Saturn (witch version)

Eclectic Whiz

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