Lyrics by: Paulo Sergio Carvalho

It's happening tonight
I have no control
The fight for my soul
Is raging inside me

I know I am a good man
I've done nothing wrong
But devil needs my soul
To complete his evil plan

I need you back to guide me
I know you can save me girl
Show me the path to light
Take me out of this fight

The devil is coming here
No way to stop it now
He wants his pound of flesh
And won't leave until he's done

I need you back to guide me
I know you can save me girl
Show me the path to light
Take me out of this fight

The devil is coming here
No way to stop it now
He wants his pound of flesh
And won't leave until he's done

I need you back to guide me
I know you can save me girl
Show me the path to light
Take me out of this fight

I'm searching for your hand
In this endless night
Only you can save me
Take me to the light

I need you back to guide me
I know you can save me girl
Show me the path to light
Take me out of this fight
Take me out of this fight
Take me out of this fight

I need you back to guide me
I know you can save me girl
Show me the path to light
Take me out of this fight

The devil is coming here
No way to stop it now
He wants his pound of flesh
And won't leave until he's done

I'm searching for your hand
In this endless night
Only you can save me
Take me to the light

Fight For My Soul [revised]

A Soft Thing Dying

Some moments never fade.

Still Smells Like June is a memory in denim and sunlight — a song about old ticket stubs, borrowed spoons, and the kind of summer you still carry in your clothes.

Turn it up, close your eyes, and smell the season again.

Manche Momente verblassen nie.

Still Smells Like June ist eine Erinnerung in Jeans und Sonnenlicht – ein Song über alte Kinokarten, geliehene Löffel und einen Sommer, der immer noch in deiner Jacke steckt.

Laut aufdrehen, Augen schließen – und der Juni ist wieder da.

Still Smells Like June

Still, We Move is a tender, reflective journey through memory, loss, resilience, and quiet hope. With delicate acoustic guitar and piano arrangements, the album blends introspective storytelling and emotional depth, capturing moments of solitude and strength. Influenced by the evocative tones of artists in the indie folk and alternative space, O.B.A.65 creates a soundscape that feels both timeless and deeply personal. From the wistful imagery of “Paper Lanterns” to the grounded warmth of “Driftwood Heart,” this album invites you to pause, reflect, and move forward—still.

Whisperlight (Remastered)

Lyrics:

The house repeats the names I’ve left behind,
dust writes quiet stories on the china lines.
Shattered frames still cling to silent walls,
and echoes of your laughter never answer when I call.

The evening melts to ashen light,
sunset forgets its way back home.
I ask the window where you’ve gone,
it only weeps against the stone.

Clocks without their hands keep circling our goodbye,
holding every second where your voice survived.
I gather all the shadows your bright spirit threw,
living without your heartbeat means guarding the cross of you.

The floorboards whisper lightly as I pass,
as if they fear to wake the past.
The flowers you once promised you would tend
sleep beneath a sky that won’t forgive or bend.

My hands still search for any trace
within the folds of what is real.
But the needle threading every gate
has sewn itself to night’s sealed veil.

Clocks without their hands keep circling our goodbye,
holding every second where your voice survived.
I gather all the shadows your bright spirit threw,
living without your heartbeat means guarding the cross of you.

I burned the letters I could never send,
ashen dust that learned to pray.
If time insists on moving on,
let me stay inside this yesterday.

Clocks without their hands keep circling our goodbye,
the pendulum lies broken, silence owns the chime.
Among my ruined keepsakes I cradle what we were,
an echo breathing onward, refusing to disperse.

Clocks Without Hands

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

Reflective and light ambient piece with gentle hums and soft echoes, capturing the feeling of peaceful isolation. It celebrates quiet moments of inner truth and calm amidst a noisy world, like blooming quietly under the moonlight.

Solitude Set to Sound

Text:
[Verse]
He died in a rocket crash on Mars
They gave me his military records
And I saw my name
He had a secret family with me

[Verse]
They brought his body back to Earth
I opened the casket and
I saw his face
He had a secret family with me

(Instrumental-Part)

[Chorus]
I want to love you for a long time
I want to see your face
You are the most important thing to me
And I love you

[Bridge]
He was already married
He had a son and a daughter
He was in the Air Force
I thought he was in the Army
He had a secret family with me

(Solo)

[Verse]
His body was on display in an open casket
His parents asked me not to come
But I couldn't miss it
He had a secret family with me

[Verse]
I saw his wife at the funeral
She looked just like me
They all thought it was a coincidence
He had a secret family with me

My Secret Family

Somebody else's song

A Billion Points of Light

C’est dans un coin perdu, pas très loin d’ici, que m’est apparue la plus belle fille
Celle qui vous laisse Bonheur et Détresse, La couleur du feu, porté par le vent
De ses doux cheveux cachée par moment, Un regard émeraude libre comme l’air

Où vas-tu sans moi qui coure déjà, je donnerai tout pour te plaire
Tu es ma folie, mon doux paradis, je t’en prie laisse toi faire
Où vas-tu sans moi, qui coure déjà, mon amour est un mystère
J’ne te connais pas, il grandit en moi, éternel comme la pierre

Sa bouche belle à croquer, rouge comme le sang, laissée échapper des sons envoutants
Fille de Calliope, sirène des Mers, Je m’y serai noyé, tendre et chaud supplice
Sans aucun regret, sans braver Ulysse, La mort sera douce dans son corps de Mer

Où vas-tu sans moi qui coure déjà, je donnerai tout pour te plaire
Tu es ma folie, mon doux paradis, je t’en prie laisse toi faire
Où vas-tu sans moi, qui coure déjà, mon amour est un mystère
J’ne te connais pas, il grandit en moi, éternel comme la pierre

Le parfum de sa peau, ses gestes troublants, Lumineux halo de son corps aimant
Les caresses, l’amour, la vie au grand air. Si elle voulait donner, un jour un prénom à sa liberté
Sans être une prison, je serai heureux de la satisfaire.

Où vas-tu sans moi qui coure déjà, je donnerai tout pour te plaire
Tu es ma folie, mon doux paradis, je t’en prie laisse toi faire
Où vas-tu sans moi, qui coure déjà, mon amour est un mystère
J’ne te connais pas, il grandit en moi, éternel comme la pierre


Still Smells Like June

BRO