Late September Heart is a quiet story of almosts — the words not said, the looks held a second too long, the song left hanging in the air. Set against a backdrop of worn leather booths and late-night jukebox hum, this track leans into a slow-burning country-blues feel. It’s the kind of song that doesn’t raise its voice, but lingers like smoke — steady, honest, and full of the things we don’t say. For nights when something stirs, even in silence. For what almost was.

Late September Heart erzählt leise von allem, was fast passiert wäre – Worte, die in der Kehle stecken bleiben, Blicke, die zu lange halten, ein Song, der in der Luft hängen bleibt. Der Sound: rau und warm, wie eine Jukebox in einem Diner kurz vor Feierabend. Country-Blues in seiner stillsten Form – ehrlich, zurückgenommen, und voller unausgesprochener Dinge. Für Nächte, in denen etwas bleibt. Auch wenn nichts geschieht.

Late September Heart

Every Damn Tuesday is a story about running into someone you once loved—over and over again.
Not because you want to. Just because life keeps putting them in your path.
It’s about the quiet moments that hurt the most, the ones where you act like you’re fine, even when you’re not.
For anyone who’s ever pretended not to care, while their heart skipped a beat.


Every Damn Tuesday erzählt von diesen Begegnungen, die man nicht sucht – aber trotzdem ständig passieren.
Wenn jemand, den man mal geliebt hat, einfach nicht aus dem Alltag verschwindet.
Es geht um stille Schmerzen, gespielte Gleichgültigkeit und Blicke, die alles sagen, obwohl keiner spricht.
Für alle, die schon mal stark getan haben, obwohl ihnen das Herz kurz stehen blieb.

Every Damn Tuesday

“I Write You A Song” turns late-night city chaos into sharp, streetwise storytelling. Every line paints the flicker of neon, the slam of rain on glass, and the calm of a pen moving steady while the world spins fast. It’s a personal message written in the middle of the noise – direct, unpolished, and meant for one pair of ears.

„I Write You A Song“ verwandelt das nächtliche Chaos der Stadt in scharfkantiges, selbstbewusstes Storytelling. Jede Zeile malt das Flackern von Neonlichtern, das Prasseln von Regen auf Glas und die Ruhe einer gleichmäßig geführten Feder, während draußen alles rotiert. Eine persönliche Botschaft, mitten im Lärm geschrieben – direkt, ungefiltert und nur für ein einziges Paar Ohren bestimmt.

I Write You A Song

When the street’s all sirens, when the sky turns red
And TV’s shoutin’ like it lost its head
I find a corner where the light runs low
Let the noise fade out and the ink just flow

The world’s on fire, but my hands stay calm
Every spark outside just feeds this charm

I write you a song
When the walls feel thin and the night feels long
It’s not for the world, just meant for your ear
A small piece of forever that says you were here
I write you a song

When the clock hands stumble and the night drifts slow
And the rain taps glass like it wants to know
I keep a page with a coffee ring
Where the words crawl out and the truth takes wing

The storm blows harder, I stand right here
With the words I’ve kept for another year

I write you a song
When the walls feel thin and the night feels long
I’ll trade all the noise for a melody true
And I’ll sing every line ‘til it reaches you
I write you a song

It’s not a rescue, it’s not a plan
It’s just my way to take your hand
While the city spins and the lights all shake
We’ve got a world they can’t overtake

I write you a song
When the walls feel thin and the night feels long
I carve words in rhythm, I wrap them in rhyme
And I hope they’ll still matter in some other time
I write you a song

When the street’s all sirens and the sky turns red
I write you a song, and stay in my melody instead


I Write You A Song

“The girl who stole you” is a dark confession of jealousy and heartbreak.
Set in a smoky bar, the song captures the moment when love is lost to the voice of another woman – powerful, haunting, impossible to escape.

„The girl who stole you“ ist ein düsteres Geständnis von Eifersucht und gebrochenem Herzen.
In einer verrauchten Bar entfaltet sich der Moment, in dem Liebe an die Stimme einer anderen Frau verloren geht – mächtig, betörend, unausweichlich.

The girl who stole you

She opens her mouth
And the room forgets to breathe
Every note is perfect
Every note is haunting me

You sit there, hypnotized
Like you never even knew my name
I can’t compete with thunder
When I’m only rain

’Cause she owns the room
Every note leaves a scar I can’t hide
Velvet and venom
You never even tried to fight
Her voice is wildfire
And there is nothing for me to do
I can’t hear a song anymore
I just hear the girl who stole you

She sings the song I used to love
Now it tastes like rust and smoke
Every word is a reminder
Of the promises you broke

I bite my lip until it bleeds
So no one sees me drown
But every cheer that fills the room
Is pushing me further down

’Cause she shakes the ground
And I just fall like rain
Her fire breaks the silence
I drown in her sound again
Her voice is a storm
And I’m breaking in two
I can’t hear a song anymore
I just hear the girl who stole you

Don’t tell me it’s just music
Don’t tell me it’s just a song
You chose her over silence
You chose her all along

Her voice
Is the crown you placed on her head
Her voice
Is the silence in my bed
And I hate her, God, I hate her
But I hate you more instead

She owns the room
Her fire turns the silence into pain
But I’m only rain, I’m only rain
Falling softer every day
I can’t hear a song anymore
I just hear the girl who stole you

The girl who stole you…
And left me falling like rain


The girl who stole you

„Berlin“ fängt die Nächte einer Stadt ein, die nie zur Ruhe kommt. Doch hinter den Bildern von Asphalt, Regen und Neon liegt eine andere Geschichte – die Erinnerung an jemanden, der in all dem Lärm nicht verschwindet.

“Berlin” captures the nights of a city that never sleeps. Yet beneath the images of asphalt, rain, and neon lies another story – the memory of someone who lingers, even when everything else fades into noise.

Berlin

Der Asphalt dampft, noch warm vom Tag
Ein Taxi stottert, der Beifahrer klagt
Die Ampeln blinken ohne Sinn
Und ich mittendrin
Mittendrin

Berlin
Du alte müde Braut
Dein Kleid ist grau
Dein Herz zu laut

Ein Graffiti flüstert „Bleib noch hier“
Und wie immer träum ich nur von dir

Ein Mädchen schreit ins Telefon
„Wo bleibst du Alter? Ich warte schon!“

Der Mond funkelt silbern und voll
Ein Penner meint: „Ick find dit toll“
Die Sterne schaun runter, auf all den Dreck
Zwei Polizisten sehen weg
Sehen einfach weg

Ein Raver stolpert, lacht und fällt
Und ich denk nur „So is die Welt“

Berlin
Du schräge alte Stadt
Dein Atem kalt
Ich hab dich satt

Ziemlich einsam, morgens um vier
Und immer träum ich nur von dir

Die Laterne flackert wie mein Kopf
Ne Katze jagt im Hinterhof
Die Nacht tropft langsam, schwarz und schwer
Und ich will´s nicht mehr
Ich will nicht mehr

Der Club spuckt Menschen aus wie Müll
Die Stadt bleibt durstig, niemals still
Der Regen spült die Farben fort
Mir fehlt dein Lachen
Nur ein Wort…

Berlin
Du abgefuckter Clown
Dein Lachen hohl
Dein Make-up braun

Im Späti noch ein letztes Bier
Und immer träum ich nur von dir

Ein Junge klaut am Tresen ein Mars
Und ich starr in mein Glas
Starr in mein Glas…


Berlin

“Ashes in the Wind” is a haunting journey through a collapsing world. With images of burning hillsides, broken branches, and clocks turning backwards, the song captures the feeling of an inevitable ending — not just for one person, but for all of us. It’s a hymn of loss, silence, and fire, where every step stirs the ashes of what once was. Both intimate and universal, the lyrics leave space for listeners to find their own reflection in the wreckage.

„Ashes in the Wind“ ist eine eindringliche Reise durch eine zerfallende Welt. Mit Bildern von brennenden Hängen, zerbrochenen Ästen und zurücklaufender Zeit fängt der Song das Gefühl eines unausweichlichen Endes ein – nicht nur für einen Einzelnen, sondern für uns alle. Es ist ein Lied von Verlust, Stille und Feuer, in dem jeder Schritt die Asche dessen aufwirbelt, was einmal war. Zugleich persönlich und universell, lassen die Lyrics Raum, dass jeder Hörer seine eigene Spiegelung in den Trümmern findet.

Ashes In The Wind

There’s a silence on the hillside
Like the world forgot to breathe
Broken branches tell the story
Of the fire underneath

I see shadows carving rivers
Through the skin of open land
Every mile the ground is shaking
Like it’s pulling at my hand

And the night keeps leaning closer
Like it knows where I have been

Ashes in the wind, they’re calling
Every step I take, they’re falling
No return, no place to hide
Ashes in the wind tonight

I hear whispers in the steel rails
Hear the iron start to bend
All the clocks are turning backwards
Every road just finds its end

And the night keeps leaning closer
Like it knows where I have been

Ashes in the wind, they’re calling
Every step I take, they’re falling
No return, no place to hide
Ashes in the wind tonight

If the sky decides to open
Let the flames become the rain
I’ll be walking through the wreckage
Till the earth forgets my name

Ashes in the wind still burning
Every step I take still turning
Into something I can’t fight
Ashes in the wind tonight
Ashes in the wind tonight


Ashes In The Wind

A story about finding something — or someone — you didn’t know you were missing.
Meant to Find You tells of a quiet encounter that feels strangely right from the start. No big drama. No grand gestures. Just small signs, soft words, and the feeling that something led you there. It’s about chance, timing, and the calm certainty that some moments are meant to happen.

Eine Geschichte darüber, etwas zu finden, von dem man gar nicht wusste, dass es fehlt.
Meant to Find You erzählt von einer stillen Begegnung, die sich vom ersten Moment an richtig anfühlt. Kein großes Drama, keine lauten Worte – nur kleine Zeichen, Blicke, ein Gefühl von Vertrautheit. Es geht um Zufall, Timing – und das leise Wissen, dass manche Dinge einfach geschehen sollen.

Meant to Find You

I missed my stop, took the long way home
Sky went red, streets were chrome
Didn’t plan a single thing
Then I heard your voice ring

You laughed like we already met
Like life had placed a quiet bet
Not loud, not big, not bright
But somehow everything felt right

I wasn’t lookin’
But I found you
Like the stars knew
Where to guide to
Out of nowhere
Straight and true
Maybe I was meant
To find you

You never asked me where I’d been
You just let the new begin
No questions, just that look
Like you read me like a book

I wasn’t lookin’
But I found you
Like the stars knew
Where to guide to
Out of nowhere
Straight and true
Maybe I was meant
To find you

Some folks chase a thousand signs
I just tripped and crossed the lines
Didn’t run, didn’t hide
Just stood still and let it ride

I wasn’t lookin’
But I found you
Like the sky moved
Just to shine through
No directions
Nothin’ new
But somehow I was meant
To find you


Meant to Find You

“Talk Me Down” is a song about the space between holding on and letting go. Set in a quiet room full of old habits and half-meant words, it captures the kind of moment where nothing is said clearly, but everything is felt. With conversational phrasing and intimate, sharp imagery, the lyrics tell the story of two people still close enough to touch—but too far gone to speak the truth out loud. There are no fireworks here, just smoke alarms still buzzing long after the fire. It’s about what’s left unspoken, and what lingers when love fades into familiarity.

„Talk Me Down“ erzählt von dem Moment, in dem zwei Menschen noch im selben Raum stehen – aber sich innerlich längst verlieren. Die Lyrics kreisen um halbfertige Sätze, alte Routinen und diese eine Frage, die keiner laut stellt. Es geht nicht um Drama, sondern um das Schweigen danach. Statt großer Gesten gibt es hier Rauchmelder statt Feuerwerk, stummes Summen statt Klarheit. Ein Song über Nähe, die nicht mehr rettet – und die Angst vor dem letzten Satz.

Talk Me Down

You said my name like it was bad news
Leaning on the door like you had nothing to lose
The fridge was humming, the clock ran late
You took off your shoes like it was second grade

I asked if you were staying
You said, “That depends on the playing”

So talk me down or let me go
Don’t smile like that if you don’t know
We’re not fireworks, we’re smoke alarms
Still buzzing in each other’s arms
And yeah, I’d stay if you’d ask out loud
But you won’t
So talk me down

The floorboard creaked like it heard too much
You poured your drink with a surgeon’s touch
I laughed too soon, it didn’t land
You scratched your neck like you had other plans

You said, “It’s strange, we still fit”
I said, “That’s not the word I’d pick”

So talk me down or let me go
Don’t smile like that if you don’t know
We’re not fireworks, we’re smoke alarms
Still buzzing in each other’s arms
And yeah, I’d stay if you’d ask out loud
But you won’t
So talk me down

There’s a version of us that might’ve worked
But it’s always three drinks deep and slightly blurred
You still show up like a song I forgot
And I still leave like I never got caught

So talk me down or let me lie
Don’t look away and call it “goodbye”
We’re not fireworks, we’re smoke alarms
Still buzzing in each other’s arms
And maybe we’re fine, just not right now
So talk me down
Or don’t
But don’t pretend this was nothing at all


Talk Me Down

“It Is What It Is” is a quiet, poetic reflection on loss, acceptance, and moving on.
Set to a laid-back Americana groove, the song tells a story of betrayal and resilience – without bitterness, without drama.
Just the river rolling, the wind in your hair, and the feeling that sometimes… that’s enough.

“It Is What It Is” ist ein ruhiger, poetischer Song über Verlust, Akzeptanz und das Weitergehen.
Getragen von einem entspannten Americana-Sound erzählt er von Enttäuschung und innerer Stärke – ohne Groll, ohne Drama.
Nur der Fluss, der weiterfließt, der Wind im Haar und das Gefühl: Manchmal ist das einfach genug.

It is what it is

I passed by the diner where we used to sit
Two cups on the counter, both losing their heat
Meanwhile the silence feels like a friend
It reminds me some roads just come to an end

It is what it is
No need to pretend
The river keeps rolling around every bend
I don’t owe the past
I don’t fear what I miss
I’m here, I’m alive
It is what it is

I found Betty‘s note folded under the bed
Said she loved me once, then left instead
Ran with a friend I thought I could trust
But the past is the past
And it crumbles to dust

It is what it is
No need to pretend
The river keeps rolling around every bend
I don’t owe the past
It don’t owe me a kiss
I’m here, I’m alive
It is what it is

There’s wind in my hair, the road feels clean
I’m done chasing ghosts, done asking what it means
No shadows behind me, no need to look back
Just the hum of silence, steady and black

It is what it is
I’ve got no regrets
The river keeps rolling, no signs, no threats
No pressure, no chains
No moment I miss
I’m home in myself
It is what it is


It is what it is

Glass Skies drifts between dream and reality, caught in a world where time melts and colors whisper. The lyrics paint surreal scenes of weightlessness, emotional echoes, and shifting perception — like a lucid dream you never want to end. With poetic imagery and soft surrealism, the song invites the listener to let go, dissolve into the moment, and feel the strange beauty of not resisting.

Glass Skies bewegt sich zwischen Traum und Wirklichkeit, in einer Welt, in der die Zeit zerschmilzt und Farben flüstern. Die Lyrics zeichnen surreale Szenen voller Schwerelosigkeit, emotionaler Nachklänge und verschobener Wahrnehmung – wie ein klarer Traum, aus dem man nicht aufwachen möchte. Mit poetischen Bildern und zartem Surrealismus lädt der Song dazu ein, loszulassen, sich aufzulösen im Moment – und die seltsame Schönheit darin zu spüren, wenn man nicht mehr kämpft.

Glass Skies

My shadow’s humming old regrets
While neon gods place quiet bets
My hands turn silver, my tongue turns blue
The air is liquid, it’s pouring through

Glass skies, breaking into sound
I’m floating, but my feet are on the ground
Colors whisper, shadows kiss
I ride the waves, I don’t resist

The clock melts soft in a stranger’s face
Time runs backwards, it leaves no trace
I touch the silence, it shivers back
The night’s a canvas, the stars all crack

Glass skies, breaking into sound
I’m floating, but my feet are on the ground
Colors whisper, shadows kiss
I move like smoke, I don’t exist

My heartbeat’s painting circles in the air
The walls breathe smoke, but I don’t care
I’m just a ripple in a sleepless stream
And everything’s real inside this dream

Glass skies, breaking into sound
I’m falling, but I never hit the ground
Colors whisper, shadows kiss
I touch the blur, then let it twist




Glass Skies

Saturday Night is a song about those fleeting moments when the world feels wide open and nothing else matters. Two strangers meet, sparks fly in the most unlikely places, and the city itself becomes part of the story. It’s messy and magical, full of neon light, laughter, and the kind of freedom that only belongs to Saturday night. With vivid imagery and a driving, melodic flow, the song captures the thrill of living in the moment—whether it fades or stays, it’s unforgettable.

Saturday Night erzählt von den flüchtigen Augenblicken, in denen sich die Welt unendlich anfühlt und alles möglich scheint. Zwei Fremde treffen sich, Funken sprühen an den unwahrscheinlichsten Orten, und die Stadt selbst wird Teil der Geschichte. Chaotisch und magisch zugleich, voller Neonlicht, Lachen und dieser besonderen Freiheit, die nur der Samstagabend kennt. Mit eindringlichen Bildern und einem treibenden, melodischen Fluss fängt der Song das Gefühl ein, im Moment zu leben – ob er vergeht oder bleibt, unvergesslich ist er in jedem Fall.

Saturday Night

You showed up in that thrift store tee
Spilled your drink and winked at me
The jukebox played some broken tune
But somehow it still felt like June

You danced like rules had lost their grip
Took my hand and bit your lip
The floor was sticky, time was fast
But I could feel the moment last

Saturday night, and the world’s off track
Hearts run wild, no turning back
We’re sparks in a soda can
Strangers clapping, don’t give a damn

You said, “Let’s leave before it ends”
We ran through puddles, not quite friends
A streetlight blinked, a siren sang
Your laugh cut through like guitar twang

Saturday night, with a rebel grin
You stole my hat, I let you win
The city’s buzzing, so are we
On sidewalks lit like silver sea

It wasn’t love, not yet, not quite
But something clicked in neon light
You said, “Let’s never do this right”
And I said, “Only Saturday night”

Saturday night, no maps, no guide
You leaned in close, I didn’t hide
We’re mess and magic, caught mid-flight
Who needs forever on a Saturday night?

Maybe it fades, or maybe it stays
But something woke up in the haze
Saturday night, you turned and smiled
And I forgot the world a while


Every Damn Tuesday

BRO