Graças a Deus tem gente que faz boa música sobre cristo

Wow the writing of this is amazing, great stuff

This is amazing!!! Your Voice is Perfectly matching the beats and the vibe,tempo, energy of the full Production!!! This a Great Work!!!!

A song about the jealousy between the female voices of devices
Calmness and intimate talking of a wonderful lady voice talking about ladies voices

Lady Voice

A song about longing and obsession in the age of social media. About falling in love with someone through a screen. Someone who may or may not be real

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I can hear the sound of dreams
The cigarettes and faded blue jeans
The photographs and played back scenes
Never knowing what they mean

I can see your days collides
The indecision codified
The fantasies and rising tide
History happens in real time

ooh ooh ooh

You could be my daydream
My landslide, my slipstream
My devil chasing moonbeams
Intention lost to the mainstream

I could be your joyride
Your agent on the outside
Your lowest low and highest tide
Watch as I revert to type

ooh ooh ooh

Daydreams And Algorithms

Disdain

2023/08/05
「白菊」, "white chrysanthemum".

Vol02

shiragiku

Riffing on the fantastic "Tarantella in A Minor" by Pieczonka.

Support Gom

Tarantella (with Pieczonka)

Only Tortured Silence is the latest track by UK singer songwriter These Guitars Say Sorry

Only Tortured Silence by These Guitars Say Sorry

We shouldn't have to fight.
The piles of skulls must show it.
Who cares who's really right?
Nobody really knows it.
The road out of this place.
Littered with bones like you and me.
The dreams that floated high.
Same as dreams that sink to ground.

This is a road to nowhere.
It's all a route to now.

A spaceman in the clouds,
knows that he matters nought.
A twinkling in the eye.
Your time has come around.
The bell tolls out for thee.
The bells keep ringing out.
The cowboys and the cows.
Are dust to blow around...,

This is a road to nowhere.
It's all a route to now.
We're all on a road to nowhere.
There isn't even hell.

I don't think on the world,
When I'm no longer in it.
and if I try to think on death.
I just can't see much in it.
I do not think of frying pans,
somebody making love to you,
I do not sit and think and about.
All the people waiting to die.

This is a road to nowhere.
It's all a route to now.
We're all on a road to nowhere.
There isn't even hell.

A Road To Nowhere

Why We Play - Robert Grigg & Combstead

Coming soon! We pretend to be fine.
There's a fire in the wastelands. What's mine?
Waste of time.
There's a fire.
We Survive.

There's a crack in the side of the farm.
You would think they'd run but they stay.
Waste the light.
Avoid the night.
Stay alive. 

There's a river that's flowing with gold.
That you get, when you're good, if you're old.
Waste of life.
Taste the Night.
Stoke the fire.

All of her maybes, mistaken for definitelys.
All you can do is move on.
All of your sure things, replaced now with possiblys.
You've got no crutch to lean on.

All of his don't knows, revealed to be so lows 
That you didn't see where they came from.
All of the can does, are hollow lists of to does.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

There's a message we sent to the sky.
Imagine that wont be getting too far.
Trip the wire.
To the stars.
To the stars.

There's a man on the moon, and he's heating a Spoon.
As he looks sadly down on the earth.
There's a cow.
What's that now?
Holy cow.

Wee Willie runs through the town.
Crying loud as he seeks them all out.
Get to bed.
In your head.
Go to bed.

All you've got left are some rust, cans of peaches.
A pile of old vizzes and porn.
A fray bentos pie and your rosy complexion.
There's no one left you rely on. 

A bust of Beethoven, a packet of suet.
A commemorative plate, a Princess Di coin.
An overfilled ashtray, a battered red jumper.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

All of her maybes, mistaken for definitelys.
All you can do is move on.
All of your sure things, replaced now with possiblys.
You've got no crutch to lean on.

All of his don't knows, revealed to be so lows 
That you didn't see where they came from.
All of the can does, are hollow lists of to does.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

When It's True

Lisa Marie Driver Music

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