Kitsch

KILL MY DOUBT

Kill Shot

Over The Moon

KNOCK

LOVESTRUCK!

Giddy

AGASSY

BORN TO BE

Yet, but (YUNA)

Run Away (RYUJIN)

Dynamite

“They Call Me Bomber” is an explosive blend of heavy groove, gritty bass, and high-impact beats that hit with unstoppable force. Powered by sharp rhythms, chopped textures, and a bold, dynamic production style, the track moves with the swagger of a street anthem and the punch of a high-energy show opener.

Male vocals bring raw charisma and confidence, carving through the mix with a larger-than-life presence. Every moment feels like a statement, loud, fearless, and unforgettable. 

This is the soundtrack for those who own their identity and never apologize for their power.

🔥 If they call you Bomber, you know you’ve earned it. What name did YOU earn? Drop it in the comments! 🔥

Note: The Canzoni.Del.Bosco channel creates custom, personalized songs.
If you’re interested — for celebrations, events, or branding projects — contact us at: bosco.custom.songs@gmail.com

They call me Bomber - Edit - Aldebaran

The room is just a shape we’re borrowing tonight
A vault of quiet, holding back the light
You trace the rim of where your glass has been
And I watch the motion, almost give in
To the pull between us—wide and deep and slow
A tide that has no shoreline, just a glow
Your breath becomes a cloud I wish I could keep
Hanging in the silence, soft and steep.

And every inch of air feels weighted, thick and true
A language made of things we almost do
My pulse is in my throat, a silent, steady beat…
A prayer without the words, a slow defeat.

We move like smoke in the stillness
A slow dance on a wire
Burning without a flame, just a deep, dark fire
So close I taste the static, the almost-touch of skin
But we just let the silence settle in
We’re shadows leaning closer, never quite to fall
The most intimate confession—saying nothing at all.

You shift your weight; the floorboard barely sighs
A conversation written in our eyes
The space between our hands feels charged and thin
A fragile peace I don’t dare begin
I feel the warmth you radiate, like sun on winter stone
A harvest of the nearness we have grown
And in this dim-lit, breath-held atmosphere
The thing we don’t say is all I hear.

And every molecule between us feels alive
A tension we are choosing to survive
My pulse is in my throat, that same, familiar plea…
To stay right in this almost-reality.

We move like smoke in the stillness
A slow dance on a wire
Burning without a flame, just a deep, dark fire
So close I taste the static, the almost-touch of skin
But we just let the silence settle in
We’re shadows leaning closer, never quite to fall
The most intimate confession—saying nothing at all.

Is this the shape of wanting? A space that we preserve?
A beautiful, slow ruin we don’t have the nerve to serve?
We orbit like slow planets, gravity our own…
A kingdom made of dusk, and flesh, and bone.
And maybe this is sweeter—the never, not the now…
The endless, tender ache of the unanswered how.

We move like smoke in the stillness
A slow dance on a wire
Burning without a flame, just a deep, dark fire
So close I taste the static, the almost-touch of skin
But we just let the silence settle in
We’re shadows leaning closer, never quite to fall
The most intimate confession…
The most beautiful arrest…
Saying nothing…
Nothing at all.


Almost-Reality

Yet, but (YUNA)

ITZY