It’s all sweat, brass, and swagger on this corner. Each track struts with crooked rhythm—shouted from rooftops, stomped into sidewalk cracks, and wired with something too loud to stay polite. The bells don’t wait, the horns don’t ask. This is street sound with shoes scuffed and voices raised, born to move bodies and bend the night.

What That Horn say

Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

greetings and welcome to my profile.
here i'll sporadically post songs related to various puppet pipeline projects.
here you will also see me learning how to create music, as, before this account, i had minimal experiences with it

profile picture made by: i  f̶o̶r̶g̶o̶t̶ (̶⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;̶⁠)̶ found it, Tate No Kuni
banner picture made by: me

What That Horn say

Kafha Studio