Give Me The Reason

The Best Is Yet to Come

Are You Coming Around Anymore?

Kinda Felt like yesterday 
We were meeting up in a parking space 
Driving for hours we were miles away 
Telling me you’re sick of your life round here 

You Looked at me 
Said do you wanna come and fly away with me 
I know that we got a bit of history but I got a life round here 

I lost her somewhere in between 21 and 17 
Right girl wrong time for me 

But I remember nights in the car park 
I remember love in a parked car 
Now I’m just thinking about yesterday
Can we go back like Yesterday 

If you ever wanna come back here 
You could come knocking on my door
I’ll be here thinking about yesterday 
Can we go back like yesterday 

On another continent  24 hour flight consequence 
Opposite time zones, Complicates 
But your mam still lives round here 

So I know you’ll be back again 
Maybe we could pick up where we left it then 
Talk about life that has past us since
And we can see where we go from there 

I remember nights in the car park 
I remember love in a parked car 
Now I’m just thinking about yesterday
Can we go back like Yesterday 

If you ever wanna come back here 
You could come knocking on my door
I’ll be here thinking about yesterday 
Can we go back like yesterday 

This time I would come with you 
I’m drinking thinking about you 
10 years ago I still miss you now 

This time I would come with you 
I’m drinking thinking about you 
10 years ago I still miss you now 

If you ever wanna come back here 
You could come knocking on my door 
I’ll be here thinking about yesterday 
Can we go back like yesterday 

I remember nights in the car park 
I remember love in a parked car 
Now I’m just thinking about yesterday
Can we go back like Yesterday 

If you ever wanna come back here 
You could come knocking on my door
I’ll be here thinking about yesterday 
Can we go back like yesterday

Jamie Grey - Yesterday

PART OF ME
#cianducrot #cianducrotpartofme #illbewaiting #cianillbewaiting #singer #songwriter #soulful #newpop #newmusic #pop #slowpop #sadpop #emotions #feels
-
They say the devil takes the best of us
I Guess I always knew you weren’t like the rest of us
You held the party in your hands like it would slip away like moments
passed
Oh how I miss the way you used to laugh
Is that the way it goes you trade your soul
To be a rose
Give everything you’ve got to give before you’ve got to
I guess that no one knows
I guess that I just didn’t see the lows
Oh we all fall down
I wish you’d told me how you felt that night
Now I’ll never get to change your mind
But with all o
f the memories
You’ll always be part of me
Ill tell your mother how we used to laugh
But it’s never gonna bring you back
Now you’re only a memory
But you’ll always be part of me
I remember times when we’d stay out till morning light
And I remember how you’d say how much you missed those nights
And I wish that I had noticed all those cracks in your smile
Guess it took a while
We coulda put stars together
Planted roots and lived forever
We coulda been kings of our own kingdom
Had you
let me help you
But you’re conditioned to believe
It only makes you weaker
Till it chokes you and you’re barely breathing

Part Of Me

Lifeline

Introverted Extrovert

Never Ever Love a Liar

Here It Is

Can’t Even Hate You

Can't Even Hate You

Chaque morceau est une pièce d’un labyrinthe intérieur, chaque personnage un masque tombé dans le puits. L’Âne Flûte n’est pas un autre. Ni le corbeau. Ni le roi des rats. Tous parlent d’un même lieu, d’un même cœur fendu par les années, par le doute, par l’épuisement d’être. Ce projet est le récit d’un seul être qui s’est éparpillé pour mieux se rassembler.

Il a fallu deux années pour oser cette traversée. Deux années à visiter chaque recoin de la caverne : la peur, l’égo, la honte, la colère, mais aussi la lucidité, l’éclat d’une étoile dans la nuit, les murmures d’un espoir sans nom. C’est une cartographie de l’âme, un théâtre peuplé d’ombres qui sont toutes un seul corps.

L’intelligence artificielle n’est pas une coquetterie ici, mais un choix essentiel. Elle sert à ôter la voix de l’auteur pour révéler la voix de l’œuvre. Ce n’est pas lui que l’on écoute, c’est ce que ça dit en lui, et peut-être en chacun. La musique devient alors canal, les voix des archétypes, et l’auteur, un passeur anonyme qui délègue l’incarnation pour que l’essence passe sans entrave.

C’est un opéra intérieur, un carnaval de symboles, un murmure d’enfant vieux.
Un seul être se cherche — dans mille visages.

The Best Is Yet to Come

Tom Walker

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