True story.

acoustic guitar rhythm and solo | Sven Sebastian Horner
acoustic base | Sven Sebastian Horner
vocals | Sven Sebastian Horner
drums | Sven Sebastian Horner, programmed with Hydrogen


Lyrics

You were busking in the city,
where I've been living,
for seven years now.

Yeah, I think you're pretty,
and when I smiled at you
you were kind of flattered.

You sang two sad songs,
telling the people around,
that they would have to bear it.

But I can tell you,
you sang so deep from your soul,
that I had tears in my eyes,
you made people stop, and not just pass by,
you were touching hearts
behind crowded minds.

I listened 'til you finished,
and with all my courage,
I started talking to you.

Man,
I felt like a school boy,
so nervous and shy,

but somehow I managed to tell you,
that I want to spend time with you,
before we said goodbye

Now I've got to write a song for you,
'cause after 2 weeks, you still did not reply,
I made myself not think about you,
but now I got tired to try.

I assume, you're not interested right now,
and I can really take that easy.
I'm not just looking for a girlfriend, you know
though I wouldn't mind having one or two.

But seriously, it's because I already,
found myself,
and I want everybody else,
just to be themselves.

I'd just like to get to know you a bit more,
meet you from soul to soul,
I'd love to play and sing with you,
maybe record some music, too.

Who knows, maybe we'll grow friends,
are you not curious to see,
what will be alive,
between you and me?

Know You A Bit More (Composition No. 9)

i be in the woods fr tho

Voice Memos

show me how it feels

Introduction in English:

People often tell me that when they are with a loved one who is about to die, they feel particularly close to them. 
Sometimes, in such moments, the history of their relationship flashes before their eyes. 
Some report reaching a deeper peace with the person in question shortly before their death. Often, the dying say things they have never been able to say in their lifetime. For example, a father who, shortly before his death, is able to tell his daughter for the first and only time that he has always loved her.
Many of those left behind tell me that they did not want to let the dying person go, but that they somehow realized that they had to let go of their loved one so that they could pass away as peacefully as possible; that they could not “die with them,” but had to continue living alone. 
And it is not uncommon for those who are approaching death to tell their accompanying relatives that they should continue to live well and in peace.
All of these stories inspired me to write the song “Mourir (Dying).” And as always, for such fundamental existential experiences, I choose the language that best expresses these radical moments of transition: French.


Lyrics (for those, who don`t speak French)

Dying

I watched over your bed 
Sat here with you night after night

Your breathing is very laboured
And it's been a long time
Since I spoke to you

The cancer has destroyed you 
You lie there, powerless and limp

You've lost the fight 
No, you won't be reborn

The thread of your life is increasibly breaking

Your gaze is so empty
Come on, please look at me again 

One last time
Don't go yet
Come on, turn around one last time.

Your heart is beating so weakly
So stay awake a little longer

I'm really letting you go
But let us look at each other once more
A farewell glance before you pass over

It's already too late
I'm saying a prayer for you.

So go in peace
Without pain

Forever my great Love

Französischer Text

Mourir

J'ai veillé à ton chevet
Je suis restée avec toi nuit après nuit
Ta respiration est tres difficile
Et cela fait tres longtemps
que je t'ai parlé

Le cancer t'a emporté
tu es là, sans force et sans vigueur
Tu as perdu la bataille 
non, tu ne renaîtras pas
Le fil de ta vie se rompt de plus en plus

Ton regard est si vide
Viens regarder encore une fois
Une dernière fois
Ne pars pas encore
Tourne-toi encore une fois

Ton cœur ne bat plus que très faiblement
Mais reste encore un peu éveillé

Je vais vraiment te laisser partir
Mais regarde-moi encore une dernière fois
Un regard d'adieu avant la transition

Il est déjà trop tard
je fais une prière pour toi

alors va en paix, libre de toute douleur
Pour toujours mon grand amour

Mourir (Dying)

Just another day in the life of a humble dictator.
He's down on his luck because he's lost his adherents, then goes on a date, then goes to a party where his traitors absconded to and passes out.
(Maybe the new guy found out how fickle the monkeys were identically....)

Lyrics:

It's going to be a lovely day
I feel it coming to the fore
This Adderall tastes like people need
To get out of my way
In the grocery store

My mood is my decision
And my decisions are generally pretty dark
She was asking for a body count
While on a date with a dictator
And i said i'd write it down
Once i got the figures later

As the weather outside grew stormy
We were discussing the means with regards to the ends
And the general zeitgeist
Billionaire techno-wizard freaks are not your friends
Neither are the normies
But the normies aren't giving masterclasses on the Antichrist

And while she was in Gravesend
Getting a purge of her follicles
She didn't mean to mock
But Disturbing naturally formed alluviums 
Is Almost as diabolical
As someone kicking your xeriscaping rocks
All over the sidewalk

And she said
After taking a breath
Life's daily demands 
Are just now not the same
Remember the early two thousands
When beating demons to death
With your bare hands
Was still a fictional video game

She'd had enough talk of killing
After flicking a piece of ash
She was such a vicious kidder
And then i really had going
A throbbing of my brain
Plus that feeling when
You need cash so bad
You're willing to be the lowest bidder
In an adversary supply chain

Water isn't clear 
But it seems clear because it filtered
What it wasn't clear to 
Which you then didn't evolve to see
What wasn't clear about her
Was that she doesn't kilter
To what would appear to be
What i was involved in
Enough to unequivocally agree

I then went to someone else’s circus 
And all of my fucking monkeys were there
Playing a diabolical form
Of political musical chairs

I'd had far too much of our host's brew
And dozed off as he prattled his parvenu 
Far on into the night
And coming to
I found it hard to believe
The change in his face
With the advent of dawn
His espirit de corps, 
His joie de vivre, 
His coup de grace, 
His deja vu
Were all categorically gone

Not My Monkeys Not My Circus

lamb

Incense

A little something about 'cumulative disruption'

Lyrics:

You know
Just because you have a freedom
You don't have to exercise it 
Every given moment of everyday you know
Well I'm rather more interested in
What happens when I run out of embarrassment

And he went on to say
Hey look, not everyone's xenocidal galactic socialistic theocracy 
Is perfect okay


Just about everyone agrees
It's tough being a lady's warder
Sex for a man
Because you know we aim to please
Is like trying to solve a rubik's cube
With an anxiety disorder
While trying not to sneeze

They've altered the terminology for festive occasions
And so for Fourth of July we're going to be setting off
Fire-Caucasians

There was an auspicious southerly breeze
On the day we unburdened ourselves from the Queen of Pinot Gris

The government was saying in a particularly rude way
That just because you have a freedom
You don't need to use it at every moment of every day
And I thought why would they feel the need to be free to say that
At this particular moment anyway

One thing seems to be incontrovertibly true
In Soviet Britain, social media posts you

They went on that governance has to be done steadily
And without stumbling upon regret
Like performing a minuet
Or making a smashing omelet
Not to dirty some egg yolks
But anyway so yeah we coerced some folks

As the thought of trying to obliterate me was tightening their rectum
The painted sybil was strumming her plectrum
The Greek chorus decried equal amounts of economic illiteracy 
On either side of the spectrum
And then his backing singers really went to town
Like crabs in a bucket clawing each other down

And then my traveling companion
Had had enough of being restrained
And complained a very millennial complaint
That now it takes four singing fish to be entertained

The high court jester 
Concluded with a pretty shrewd remark
As he was busy collecting the necessaries
The key to isolating his mark
And causing things to fester
Was to forget a man's ancestors
Hide his descendants
And separate his contemporaries

In the ultramarine dark
He was caparisoned as if strolling on a lark
Resembling a tasseled wobbegong carpet shark

She was quite a debutante for a start
And hard to hate for anyone with half a heart
An epitome of discernment
Like the connoisseur of detournement

We were bantering the specifics to and fro
And even though I was doing it a little bit slow
It had been a pleasant trip so to speak

After a long time of being on the shelf
As poignantly as having a sword run through
If something seems painfully obvious to you
But obvious to no one else 
That fact is more real than reality itself

Every Given Moment / Chnospinci

cadia

creek

sage archive
- .... . / . -. -.. / .. ... / -.-. --- -- .. -. --. / ... --- --- -.
prods (@Bashful , @Sickboi , @Wekkstar , @Bowsa, @Mercenarychild , @66smokey) @Yokiyo555 - new alt

- .... . / . -. -.. / .. ... / -.-. --- -- .. -. --. / ... --- --- -. 133/1000