Disassociate

-Lyrics-

It's a late night,
And we're sitting tight,
Our bodies close,
I can feel the smoothness of your skin,
I tell you twice,
That you look nice,
And I really like the perfume that your wearing,

And then we kiss,
And in that moment of bliss,
The planets align,
And I think of the times,
That we stayed up all night and stared at the moon,
It was beautiful,
Our bodies collide,
Our bodies collide until the end of time,
Our bodies collide,

I don't mean to fright you but,
I do think tonight could be,
The very best night I have had in a very long time,
And it makes me smile when I,
Haven't seen you for awhile,
And I look into your eyes,
And you tell me everything will be okay,

And then we kiss,
And in that moment of bliss,
The planets align,
And I think of the times,
That we stayed up all night and stared at the moon,
It was beautiful,

Our bodies collide,
Our bodies collide until the end of time,
Our bodies collide,
Your hand in mine,
Our bodies collide,
Our bodies collide

Our Bodies Collide

Keep Fallin Feat.Jumex(Prod.Eric White)

0 this is really a mixture of pop and rap but I don't see a way to put that as a category...
 but anyway I hope people enjoy this and it becomes a big hit and gets me signed

The Final Blow

This is the prelude to my album 'kids', out Jan 30

Track from the album Self Determination
AC Record Label ©

Album is available here on SoundCloud in Digital, CD, and Vinyl. You can find links to the Album in the Artist's Bio.

Lyrics

We are the voice of the innocent, so that their anguished cries can be heard in real time, and we sacrifice ourselves for the truth, of press freedom.
The relentless targeting won’t shut us down, and you can’t silence our voices with a shell, and with my pen and paper, I’ll defend the truth, through press freedom

I am your witness, I am your eyes and ears, 
And my lens will focus through the dust, the rubble, the pain and fear
Each day I pray for my brothers lost in the line of duty
I am the doctor, the nurse, the driver, the voice of the voiceless and of each survivor
On the ground we stay, and we survive on water for three days

I wear a vest and a hard hat too, from a so called safe zone I report to you
While you sit and you listen from, the comfort, of a chair, to the press freedom
The systematic butchering and impunity, I will expose to the world with a microphone, we are the crew who defy the false narrative, through press freedom

I am your witness, I am your eyes and ears, 
And my lens will focus through the dust, the rubble, the pain and fear
Each day I pray for my sisters lost in the line of duty
I am the doctor, the nurse, the driver, the voice of the voiceless and of each survivor
On the ground we stay, and we survive on water for three days.

"The right to self-determination is a core principle of international law that entitles all peoples to control their own destiny."

There is a link on my Bio where you can support UNRWA. Right now, Palestine Refugee families are counting on UNRWA - and on you - to help them through unimaginable hardships. Your donation ensures that food is delivered, children are cared for, and hope remains alive. Together, we can keep this lifeline strong.

Cathal O'Briain enjoys writing original contemporary ballads. He sings and plays fingerstyle acoustic guitar, drawing upon aspects of human nature, history, and current international events in his songs.

His upcoming album Self-Determination is a body of work from his collaboration with legendary Producer Peter Eades who has worked with some of Ireland’s top acts such as Clannad, The Chieftains, Thin Lizzy, The Dubliners, Moving Hearts and De Danann.

Self Determination

Press Freedom

Buy Digital Album

Born on a Train

Composer&lyricist, synths, melodica, vocals: Antoine G

This is a simple folk song, with a simple theme: an old woman waiting on the shore for her man - who will never come back

Lyrics:
In our home, I waited while you roamed the seas, 
Watched my hair turn silver as time moved like a breeze. 
Three times you returned, and four times you left, 
These sweet and bitter memories I cannot forget.

I stood by the shore and stared at the waves, 
Knowing each of them was a sailor's grave. 
And aching every time I saw a returning sail, 
Knowing that none of them belonged to my man.

And the years have passed and all beauty has passed, 
And I don’t have the courage for any other man
I’m just that crone on the shore that people pass  by, 
And  I’ve grown too wise for any other man.
(Interlude)

And the years have passed and all beauty has passed, 
And I could never love any other man
I’m just the crone on the shore and people pass me by
And in my heart, you’re still, still the only man.

And one day a wave will break at my feet
Carry me to the ocean, and there we will meet
Amongst the currents and the seaweed I will find my crown
I will be your queen again, in my love you will drown

Cover art: Jozef Israëls (1824–1911)  Fisherman's Wife at the Window

The Ballad of the Crone

"I Remember the Long Summer Days" is a folk/noir ballad drawing on the storytelling depth of 1940s chanson and the raw edge of dark folk. Created as a sonic companion to a pivotal literary scene, the song captures a final peaceful walk through snow-covered fields before an impending escape—a moment of quiet intimacy between father and daughter, suspended between memory and farewell.
With its smoky baritone vocals, fingerpicked guitar, cello, and distant accordion, the track balances melancholy and solace, weaving the warmth of past summers into the cold certainty of departure. This piece is part of the transmedia project "Hinter uns das Land" (biographical novel + music), exploring themes of loss, family, and resilience in times of upheaval.

---

I Remember the Long Summer Days" ist eine folk/noir-Ballade, die musikalisch Anklänge an die erzählerische Tiefe der 1940er-Jahre-Chansons und den rauen Charme des Dark Folk aufgreift. Das Lied entstand als Klangbild zu einer literarischen Szene: Ein letzter friedlicher Spaziergang über verschneite Felder, kurz vor der Flucht – ein Moment der Stille und Innigkeit zwischen Vater und Tochter, der Erinnerung und Abschied in sich trägt.
Die rauchige Bariton-Stimme, begleitet von fingergezupfter Gitarre, Cello und einem fernen Akkordeon, schafft eine Atmosphäre zwischen Melancholie und Trost. Inspiriert von der Stille vor dem Aufbruch, verbindet der Track die Wärme vergangener Sommertage mit der Kälte des Winters – und der Gewissheit, dass manche Orte bald nur noch Erinnerung sein werden.
Diese Aufnahme ist Teil des transmedialen Projekts "Hinter uns das Land" (biografischer Roman + Musik), das Geschichten von Verlust, Familie und Widerstand in einer Zeit des Umbruchs erzählt. 


lyrics:

The air is icy, and the sun hangs like a pale smudge in the sky. The snow-covered meadow lies silent and still beneath a gray veil. A light wind whistles through the bare branches of the ancient oaks, carrying the scent of frost and burnt wood.

Inge walks with her father across the meadow. His steps are strong and steady, but his face is shadowed by a heavy weight of sadness.
"Do you see the peat cut over there, Inge?" he asks, pointing with a slender finger to a dark gap in the white expanse. "That’s where we used to warm our feet."
Inge nods. She remembers the warm ash filling the air, the strong smell of burning peat, the heavy sacks they carried together. It was hard work, but it was also a time of togetherness and joy.

They continue through the deep snow of the forest. The trees stand like giant guardians around them, their branches laden with thick blankets of snow, appearing as silver ghosts in the faint light.

Inge feels the cold in her fingers. It is a bitter winter, but in her heart, a warm fire of memory burns.
"I remember the long summer days in the forest, Father," she says, looking into his eyes. "The happy picnics with the family, the little berries we picked, the long walks through the woods."
Her father smiles softly. "Yes, Inge," he says. "Those were beautiful times. But time moves on, Inge. And we must go with it."

They stand on a small hill. The view stretches far over the estate. The houses lie quiet in the snow. Smoke from the chimneys rises slowly into the cold air.
Inge feels a heavy lump in her throat. She knows this is her last walk across the estate. Soon, it will be only a memory.
"I will never forget you, Father," she says, her voice quiet and sad.
Her father puts his arm around her. "Nor will I ever forget you, Inge," he says, holding her close. "You are my little girl. And you will always remain in my heart.


I Remember the Long Summer Days  (From the Original Novel Soundtrack)

Withdrawal

Supervisor, "Safety Measures"

This page features a revolving door of audio recorded at Handwritten Recording in Chicago. Email me at Rick@HandwrittenRecording.com or check out HandwrittenRecording.com for more information.

Supervisor, "Safety Measures"

Handwritten Recording

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