I will be releasing a new album with 10+ tracks with this voice on https://madelyn-dionne.bandcamp.com on November 1, 2025. Stay tuned my very dear fans.  Reply

I have great news for you. This song will be in my new Album coming out in November! The exciting news is that it comes with a fresh new ending that really makes the whole experience full and rich. Stay tuned.

This is quality it deserves way more attention.

Together

A nostalgic soft rock ballad in B minor, blending elements of folk rock, pop rock, and subtle alt-country. The song reflects on growing up on a close-knit street, where memories of childhood freedom, connection, and place still echo through time. With warm acoustic tones and heartfelt storytelling, Where I Grew captures the essence of simpler days and lasting identity. Blending my own ideas with AI support – a journey shaped by feeling and code.

The Old Street

Ein Song wie eine Sommernacht – voller Fernweh, flüsternder Wälder und goldener Sterne. Inspiriert von Joseph von Eichendorffs Gedicht (1834), erzählt Sehnsucht von der stillen Kraft der Träume und dem Wunsch, einfach aufzubrechen. Zwischen Posthorn und Mondschein, Mmh Mmh Mmh Mmh – ein musikalischer Spaziergang ins Herz der Romantik.

A song like a summer night – full of longing, whispering woods, and golden stars. Inspired by the poetry of Joseph von Eichendorff (1834), Sehnsucht captures the quiet power of dreams and the urge to escape. Between distant horns and moonlit gardens, Mmh Mmh Mmh Mmh – a musical walk into the heart of romantic yearning.

Sehnsucht

DE: Zwischen Dunkelheit und Glanz entfaltet sich ein stilles Echo verlorener Wünsche und verborgener Wahrheiten.

EN: Between darkness and glow, a silent echo unfolds—of lost wishes and hidden truths.

Shadow Echoes

It Must Be Hard

Chaque morceau est une pièce d’un labyrinthe intérieur, chaque personnage un masque tombé dans le puits. L’Âne Flûte n’est pas un autre. Ni le corbeau. Ni le roi des rats. Tous parlent d’un même lieu, d’un même cœur fendu par les années, par le doute, par l’épuisement d’être. Ce projet est le récit d’un seul être qui s’est éparpillé pour mieux se rassembler.

Il a fallu deux années pour oser cette traversée. Deux années à visiter chaque recoin de la caverne : la peur, l’égo, la honte, la colère, mais aussi la lucidité, l’éclat d’une étoile dans la nuit, les murmures d’un espoir sans nom. C’est une cartographie de l’âme, un théâtre peuplé d’ombres qui sont toutes un seul corps.

L’intelligence artificielle n’est pas une coquetterie ici, mais un choix essentiel. Elle sert à ôter la voix de l’auteur pour révéler la voix de l’œuvre. Ce n’est pas lui que l’on écoute, c’est ce que ça dit en lui, et peut-être en chacun. La musique devient alors canal, les voix des archétypes, et l’auteur, un passeur anonyme qui délègue l’incarnation pour que l’essence passe sans entrave.

C’est un opéra intérieur, un carnaval de symboles, un murmure d’enfant vieux.
Un seul être se cherche — dans mille visages.

14-Un silence

The darkness creeps in slowly,  
and seeps through the windows coldly.  
I toss another log into the fire’s call.  
The table and the dresser,  
All the things we used to treasure,  
Fade to fleeting shadows on the wall.  
 
Our dreams of yesterday  
Turn somber, slip away.  
Everything’s got its time, its rise, its fall.  
We planned to build our towers,  
But the wreckers took our hours.  
Now our dreams are just shadows on the wall.  
Now our dreams are just shadows on the wall.  
 
With organ chords now playing,  
The prelude to decaying—  
It’s fine, love’s a fire after all.  
From courtship’s sweet illusion  
To courtroom-like conclusions,  
Love becomes a shadow on the wall.  
 
Our dreams of yesterday  
Turn somber, slip away.  
Everything’s got its time, its rise, its fall.  
We planned to build our towers,  
But the wreckers took our hours.  
Now our dreams are just shadows on the wall.  
Now our dreams are just shadows on the wall.  
 
Draped in black or dressed in white,  
Through the convoy or the night,  
We wonder how much longer this will all endure.  
Living reckless, upside down,  
Till the casket comes around—  
Life itself is just a shadow on the wall.  
 
The darkness creeps in slowly,  
Seeping through the windows coldly.  
I toss another coal into the fire’s call.  
My hands and feet surrender,  
To maps they once remembered—  
Tracing fleeting shadows on the wall.  
The world itself’s a shadow on the wall,  
A flickering shadow on the wall.  
A flickering shadow on the wall.  

The Wreckers

**Description below the Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I see so much, yet not enough,
Scraps of light and ragged thoughts.
Trying to remember the list I forgot.
Could have got her flowers… but I did not.

I see a wet and rainy street
I should have walked one day
I could have held her hand in mine
But I turned… and walked the other way.

[Chorus]
Why do we wait to do the things
That weigh so heavy when they’re gone?
We hold them back, we stop them short,
Till the chance to love has come and gone

[Verse 2]
The warmth of her sitting across the kitchen table,
Her fingers curled ‘round that chipped coffee cup.
I thought I would be able
To give her more but that time's up.

I wanted to plant her garden this spring
But it’s still just packets on a shelf
I imagined a song I’d sing to her…
It's still a thought inside myself.

[Chorus]
Why do we wait to do the things
That weigh so heavy when they’re gone?
We hold them back, we stop them short,
Till the chance to love has come and gone.

[Verse 3]
The trip I planned a hundred times,
And always found ways to miss.
The arms I kept beside my back,
Afraid to reach and give her a kiss..

The brakes I swore I’d get replaced,
The list I left there on the chair.
A sunset I was “too tired” to see,
The time I didn’t want to share.

[Chorus]
Why do we wait to do the things
That weigh so heavy when they’re gone?
We hold them back, we stop them short,
Till the chance to love has come and gone.

[Bridge]
What happened to this life?
Did I throw it all away?
Did I waste all the time we had,
Hoping I’d have another day?

[Final Chorus]
Why did I wait to do the things
That I can’t stop thinking when she's gone?
I held them back, I failed to do,
Now my time to love has come and gone
Why, oh, why did I wait… so long…?

[Outro - gently , almost whispered]
And then... I passed... away

Even though it's late, really late,
what I think I've learned is this:

It’s not the arms I didn’t open.
The time I didn't live.
The garden that never blossomed.
The kiss I'd give anything to give.

It’s the love I hardly lived.
That’s the ache that echoes long.
And that’s the reason I cry
When love... came along.
I realize I hardly... ever... tried.

~~~~What does this song mean to you. I need to know... If you feel shy about leaving a comment, please send me a message. I am all alone and need to know how my work , works. Thank you.  --Madelyn

Description:
Why Did I Wait is realization—too late in coming. A man’s final reckoning unfolds in whispers, gravel, and silence. His voice frays at the edges, pushing through phrases he can barely finish. He doesn't sing to impress; he sings because he has to—because the weight of what he didn’t say is heavier than the words he finally does.

The guitar is faint, almost hesitant, leaving space for the rawness to echo. When he reaches the bridge, his voice strains upward—then crashes back down. The music fades. Then, quietly: “And then I passed away.”

A pause.
A death.

Then the truth: what he learned… and what he’ll never forgive himself for.

The final lines ache with clarity. This isn’t performance.
It’s too human for that.

It’s realization—too late in coming.

The song's simplicity in style, structure, timing, musical chords, is a perfect foil for the complexity of the moment, the life wasted, the regret, the words said and not. This song brings up memories that can't help but relate to this man's unlived life. I thank you for listening over and over again. I do so hope that it makes more sense to you than it does to me. Because I don't know where it came from, only that it came. I don't know why. Maybe you do.

Why Did I Wait

“The Sway” is a quiet reckoning set to music. Against the backdrop of a sinking ship, we witness fleeting portraits of dignity, denial, instinct, and quiet sorrow. Each person faces the inevitable in their own way — some with habit, others with poise, a few with a final breath of defiance. At the heart of it all stands a woman with a trumpet, holding steady as the world gives way beneath her. She doesn’t look for rescue. She simply plays — not to be heard, but to leave something behind.

The sway is more than the tilting deck — it’s the quiet pull between hope and surrender, memory and forgetting. If the sea remembers anything, let it be her final, fragile melody.

„The Sway“ ist eine leise Abrechnung in Liedform. Vor dem Hintergrund eines sinkenden Schiffs erleben wir flüchtige Porträts von Würde, Verdrängung, Instinkt und stiller Trauer. Jede Figur begegnet dem Unvermeidlichen auf ihre eigene Weise – manche mit Routine, andere mit Haltung, einige mit einem letzten Hauch Trotz. Im Zentrum steht eine Frau mit einer Trompete, die weiterspielt, während die Welt unter ihr zu kippen beginnt. Sie wartet nicht auf Rettung. Sie spielt – nicht um gehört zu werden, sondern um etwas zurückzulassen.

„The Sway“ ist mehr als das Schwanken des Decks – es ist das leise Pendeln zwischen Hoffnung und Aufgabe, Erinnerung und Vergessen. Und wenn das Meer etwas bewahrt, dann vielleicht ihre letzte, zerbrechliche Melodie.

The Sway

I see the iceberg shining white
Colder than the silver night
A man jumps over, no goodbye
Just a shadow cutting the sky

A child still clutches violin strings
Too small to know what silence brings
His mother pulls him, eyes like glass
They vanish down the staircase fast

And I keep my trumpet steady
While the deck begins to sway
I don’t look for rescue
I just play what I can play

A woman lights a cigarette
Smoke curls like a dark duet
Her eyes don’t blink, her hands don’t shake
She knows what’s coming, what’s at stake 

A man still ties his leather shoes
As if the morning train is due
His collar neat, his gaze withdrawn
He straightens up, and then he’s gone

And I keep my trumpet steady
While the deck is giving way
Every note reminds me
Of the life that slips away

The glasses slide across the bar
A single candle fights the dark
The flame leans sideways, holds its breath
It flickers once, then bows to death

And I keep my trumpet steady
While the deck forgets the day
If the sea remembers anything
Let it be the song I play

Let it be the song I play


The Sway

"Bêêêê" Only french/Original version

This is the 4th track for Rocktober. 

I had the plan to make a medieval ballad about a trucker and his wife and kids at home.

I wrote and wrote and had 6 verses.
When recording, it became a very long ballad. Really, really long.

I got distracted and started with a beat after the last verse. And another beat. A sound. It became fantastic 😆
So, tomorrow's track (5th) will be the remix of this ballad.

I kept 3 verses and perhaps the lyrics are going nowhere, but at least I have something for day 4 🤭

04 Ballad of the road and the hearth

✨ I’m here to share songs that come from truth and hard work. I don’t use promoters, bots, or promotional shortcuts. Every play, like, and comment here is genuine. If you’re listening, you’re part of something real, and that means more than any numbers ever could. Thanks for walking this road with me.

Oh and I make my own bacon. I'd love to swap recipes! (Chef's Kiss!)

Why Did I Wait

Madelyn Dionne

Recent comments

Letty S

Madelyn Dionne

Madelyn Dionne

~

Related tracks