An ode to opposites, and a different way to look at some of the issues that are tearing things apart.  This project is still incomplete.  I estimate it to be about 17-20 tracks when finished.

Opposing Forces

DRIFTING

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On colors behalf

Blue Red Purple give you a choice to make
Blue for water sky and for Heaven's sake
Red for Hell Fire the darkened soul
Purple is Royal a mixture of control

Bathe of the water is Heaven your delight
Does fire calm demons keep you at bay at night
Which one are you are you mixture of both
Purple People eater with divine oath

Are you nothing of the sorts are you empty black space
Do you hate all in self and entire human race
If you don't yet know you are a blank canvas white
I can prolly guide you with suggestions slight

Make you unto Art be of Father's Heaven
Consider me open your local 7-11
Come at me anytime but don't bring weak shit
Don't ask me what you know testing if my answer fit

I could just read your mind but I'm saving my power
I could make you pet project grow you like a flower
You can just say nothing if my words mesmerize
These are the answers there's no compromise

Give you a moment to ponder these things
You'll need to know before the battle bell rings
If you are in constant change yet to decide
you're not ready for a helluva ride

If this is the case maybe you were busy just living
Let it be known this message I'm giving
Let your true colors speak unto all
This the case summer winter spring and fall

Wear it like a badge but you ain't busting my ass
I run the show I'm teaching the class
Of all this are you ready to paint
Does this complicate things once faint

If you don't understand play this song again
This the true game I'm about to win
I can see the finish line just a few more strides
I will soon conquer the many divides

Dreaming of their Emmy awards giving me a shout out
Thanking God & myself for removing their doubt
Call me an Artist of rappitry's skill
This passion my future and will

(pause)

I've said a lot in just two minutes already
Music been carrying me steady
Trust in me for I just don't lie
Don't let this chance pass you by

I perform as Azakel perhaps you've heard
Others should know of this here word
Link share and like give your support
I will go on for my attention's not short

Taught you so fast others will in time learn
These the very colors faithing world to turn
Of this no escape there is no denial
Wash in these waters my own river Nile

You could just burn just raise a flame to me
I will hold no punches you'll come to see
Call me Azakel I will speak to you direct
or even Mangeleus the 2020 elect

For there is no stop to my apex assault
So many gifts within mind vault
Enrich your thoughts of this do ponder
When I am speaking don't let the mind go wander

Just cause I'm not rich doesn't mean any shit
No end to me for I will not quit
May in time fans and I cross paths
Share in drinks smokes and laughs

Look me up if a great challenge you can make
I have nothing to hide for I am no fake
As they say no weapon against me will prosper
So overdue a Nobel Peace and Oscar

So many art talents I'm nearly Apollo
Reasons and rhetoric of which to follow
I just need to get endorsed of my many gifts
Need to heed of this if you wish soul lifts

Don't ever be coy hiding of truth you know
Soon like me your very soul will glow
No other without me can make these claims
Free you of doubts and of your shames

Now that this song I've made is nearly over
Good luck to you as if from clover
Quote me of these things you just might
This no glove battle I won this fight

iTunes

On colors Behalves

Replenish is a deep trap gem, with young talented producer Yensid on the beat and a smooth, melodic flow delivered by yours truly, Cloak,,,,Get set.

Replenish (prod by Yensid)

N-ZTON - Like That is OUT NOW via Tiger Records :

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Like That

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N-ZTON - Like That

BREAK MY WALLET FREESTYLE

IF U WANNA (Prod. Andres)

Raw  snippet original - heavy swing

Last Night I Saw Angels

Last Night I Saw Angels  mix

Another accidental decent new song that fits nicely in the "Opposing Forces" project.  I wrote the lyrics last week, recorded the music last Wednesday, and the vocals today.

This song is about the good people who dismiss themselves when they see something horrible happening to another person.

Lyrics:

Little Gage is in the back of the bus again
The safe seats were all taken.
They spit and mock and slap and they pull his hair.
Even after he starts shaking.

The others lock their eyes on the road ahead.
And ensure that he’s forsaken.
The driver never looks back from the road.
Not for peace, life, or creation.

Chorus:

They’re all trying not to notice.
They don’t want to know this.
“Thank God, this is not me but someone else!”

Bella’s broken down in the locker room
With mean girls all around her.
They’ve cut up all her nice new cool school clothes
That her mother worked so hard for.

The other girls avert their eyes and leave
And do not offer comfort.
When asked later they say they know nothing.
Not sure they even saw her.

Chorus:

They made sure not to notice.
They do not need to know this.
“Thank God, that was not me but someone else!”

Devon has spent six months on the deep blue sea.
He really missed his family.
He drove all night and passed through three more states.
Not caring how he’s driving.

Blue lights appear behind him on the road.
And calmly, he pulls over.
The cops say he’s been drinking all night long.
And pull him from his Rover.

Chorus:
They begin to beat him.
And no one stops to help him.
“Thank God, that isn’t me but someone else!”

Bridge:
Cowardice is violence, too.
How long until they come for you?
What have you gained observing rules?
The enforcers are clearly evil.

Chorus:
You think that you can hold out.
And they won’t call your own out.
Dear God, please save these people from themselves!

Two kids peeking through the upstairs back window
As Nazis march the Jews out.
They force them all to stop and take off their clothes
Then they heard them to a dug out.

They make them face away from the men with guns.
And then they blow their brains out.
The grown-ups in the house all hear the cries.
They pretend that it is all well.

Chorus:
They refuse to notice.
They don’t want to know this.
“Thank God, this isn’t us but someone else!”

You think that you can hold out.
And they won’t call your own out.
Good God, please save your children from themselves.

Craven

Collective (Prod. Sickboi)

Clouds that float by-without a mindful eye. Their beauty we so often miss-I wonder why? To lay in the meadow- with eyes fixed to the sky. Serene white cushions- that float silently by. Faces in the clouds-who do you see? Mystical and Spiritual- they resemble neither you nor me.
Oh it pleasant- with a heart at ease. Just after sunset-or by moonlight sky.
To make the shifting clouds-be what you please.

11/06/21

05 CLOUDS From The Album Hinterland

This is a new song.  We're already up to version 2:  Did some mastering cleaned up some of the audio, and fixed some of the vocals.  I like the story I found in this one.  As for the music, this is what would happen if Metallica made sweet musical love with The Beatles.  Version 3: toned down the overpowering distort guitars and cleaned a few things up.  Brought out the vocals in the verses.  Pulled the flute and clarinet parts back. (wanted those parts to be quiet).

Lyrics:

If you want to save someone from something,
I just wanted to save someone from something.
If you want to save someone from something,
Save them from yourself.

I was a sickly boy.
From ages two through eight, locked down inside my room.
I didn't have a friend.
All I ever did was sit and stare at my TV.

Binged Andy Griffith Shows.
And early Batman made in the 1960s.
That's how I learned the world
And picked my place within it like my father thought I should.

Learned the three types of men.
The heroes and the villains and the victims of their war.
I wanted to be Batman.
Though it's not so simple, I decided to do it.

Chrous:
I didn't mean it.
This is not who I am.
Please, please just listen to me.
I made a mistake.

I grew up big and strong.
I played a lot of sports, and I learned how to fight them off.
I learned to shoot a gun
nailing moving targets like the world was standing still.

Then I put on a badge
And went into the world to fight the monsters and their ilk.
Stare in the dark too long,
It worms its way inside you.  You become what you find ill.

I cannot meet a man
without looking for all the bad things that he has inside.
Somewhere along the way,
The line between the good and bad became very muddy.

Chorus.

Just a short traffic stop.
He had a broken tail light and I stopped to let him know.
Told me he had a gun
nestled in the console by his registration.

Said he should watch his hands.
"Don't go for that console or this stop could turn real bad."
Said that he had to show me
Reaching for the console, so I did what I had to.

Chorus

Outtro:
If you want to save someone from something. . . .
I just wanted to save someone from something.
If you want to save someone from something,
Save them from yourself.

Blue Tragedy

This is a brand new song.  I've had the idea for a minute, but I found a concept I liked this past weekend.  This one may change a bit.  This is definitely the crux of the "Opposing Forces" idea, and the other end of the title "Blue Tragedy."  As for the style, it's a mixture of a lot of sixties and seventies styles of music.  Let me know what you think as this one is a little experimental.  Version 2: Balanced some stuff.  Reworked some of the vocals.  I noticed missed notes and some areas that were slightly off tempo, and I fixed a lot of that.  Version 3: Cymbal crashes were distorting the sound.  Pulled that back -- a lot.  Brought out the chorus Crunch guitar a little more.  Made some more room.

Lyrics:

Intro:
The devil's glee.
The angels weep.
Great Father looks down.
His bearing screams:

"These are my children.  They're not untermenschen!
"No!
"They were never meant to be controlled."

Little boy with mocha skin and eyes full of dawn.
When he grows up he wants to change the whole world.
He declares in blue crayon.

He grew and he grew until he rose above the crowd.
A smile that lit the sky and brought the walls down.
Ne'er wore a frown.

As he was driving back home from a small town,
got shot in a traffic stop for having a gun.
Court date disallowed.

"These are my children.  They're not untermenschen!
"No!
"And my progeny won't let it go!"

In an attic lives a scared, little girl
Inside she hides from all the hate in the world.
Never coming unfurled.

Her journal spins a brilliant quilt full of whorl.
When she grows up, she wants to show the whole world.
She presents with a twirl.

A pack of bastards ruined what might have been.
Off to camps with her whole family and friends.
Never made amends.

"These are my children; they're not untermenschen.
"No!
"And your hatred will swallow you whole."

Hispanic man who lost his life's sweet amor.
Raising kids where you can die if you're poor.
He decides he wants more.

They wear out their shoes searching far heretofore.
To the states where they might thrive forevermore.
Though despised and abhorred.

Crossing the border, they are seen by the boars.
The father runs but he is shot in the gourd.
And the kids beaten sore.

"This was our father.  He wasn't subhuman!
"No!
"And our fury will dig you a hole!"

Great father looks down:

"These are my children; they're not untermenschen!
"No!
"I will return and my wrath you'll behold!"

Coda:
And the blood cries up from the ground:
"How long will you let it go?"
It's your blood too, didn't you know?
"How long will you let it go?
"How long will you let it go?"

Untermenschen

This is a new version of an old song.  Rather than make "The Martyr" eight minutes long, I decided to do the intro as the intro to the Opposing Forces project, and pick up the end of the song as the outro for the project.  This is a brand new part of the song.  Musically and lyrically I intended it to describe in a realistic and secular way the prayer at the Garden of Gethsemene, just before the arrest of the man commonly known as Jesus of Nazareth.  It was fun doing a musical story like this without writing a hymn.

From Gethsemane Part One:   (Opposing Forces Intro)

This song is the intended opposite of "Corporate Slave."  It's a brand new song that takes the perspective of the American oligarchy which has been totally taking advantage of not just citizens of The United States but everyone in the world who is not them while being overtly priggish -- beating the personal responsibility pulpit -- and covertly greedy and gratuitously opportunistic.  (Actually, it's a little nicer than that).  This is a brand new song.  V2:  brought out the guitars and bass a bit more.  Found the wig-wagging vocals a little distracting, so I lessened the level of the effect.  Next, I'll probably re-work some of the bass part, and get rid of one area in particular that's a little rough.

Revision 3:  Changed the clean guitar to stereo.  Removed some of the plugins that overloaded the sound.   Re-recorded some of the bass parts and added a new part in one of the bridges to deepen the sound.

Lyrics:

Lazy, little brats wanting something for nothing.
All day long sitting on their asses
Now they want whine I don’t pay enough money.
They want to steal my gold.

Work myself to death building this sprawling empire.
Rode this desk twenty hours a week.
Barely had the time to improve my golf game.
And they say I’m cold.

Pissy liberal babies claim that I’m too wealthy.
I robbed the poor and gave it all to me.
Flaccid commie bastards all can lick my nut sack.
This land belongs to me!

I’m the boss!

Chorus:
What this world really needs
Is someone who will lead
Take the reins and proceed
To make the unwashed masses think like me.

Someone like me.

Idle sissies cry about the twelve-hour workday.
Then they moan about their wage.
They say it’s not enough to support their families.
Don’t fuck if you can’t pay.

They just wanna have their cake and then eat it.
I’ll Automate the whole goddamn thing.
You wanna be rich, you should start your own business.
Then you’ll fathom me.

Some may say my position’s immoral.
But Moral men go broke and die.
That is why I own a giant yacht and two mansions.
The means are justified.

I’m the boss!

Chorus.

My father built this fortune.
His favorite only child.
Left us to our mother.
It’s all that I have left of him.

I’ll never be that perfect.
But I won’t let it slip away.
It’s me against the world.
And me against the working class.

You can’t fight me I’m city hall! x4

I’m the boss.

I own you.
I own me.
I own both political parties.

The Boss

This is yet another brand new song.  It turned out to be a little more than I envisioned.  It's not filler.  In fact. . . .  Well, I like it anyway.  The style is a little different than some of the more recent stuff.  I would call this blues Rock.  My influence for this type of genre would be Blues Traveler, Counting Crows, Black Crowes . . . any number of others.  This is a first version, so I'm sure some of it may change later after I've listened to it a few thousand times.

Lyrics:

I’ll bet I know how I must look to you.                                          
I’ll bet I know how I must look to you.

                       
Hair exploding from my head
Like frayed copper wire.
Ragged Clothes bare of thread.
And ten years out of style.

Every time you step out your door
And look across the road,
I’m sitting on my porch swing here
And smoking like a stove.

I’ll bet I know how I must look to you.
I bet you haven’t thought how you must look to me.

I saw your son at the bus stop yesterday.
With a mean Frozen grin on his face.
		Kids in colorful winter coats
		All except for one.

		He wears a thin cloth jacket stained and frayed.
		His hair a tangled and oily disarray. 
		He said nothing to anyone.
		Stood in the rain and stared.

You might know him.  He lives just up the street.
In the house with the yard that’s gone to seed.
His mother left them two months ago
For better company.

Your boy smacked him across the face
He fell with a heavy thud.
Dumped the contents of his bag
And ground it in the mud.

This boy is me
Your son is just like you.

Ch:
Microcosm of humanity
On our little street, well
No one’s good but we’re not bad.
No one’s happy but some are sad.

All have eyes trained to the sky, and we’re screaming,  Ah!
“Please don’t hate me I’m not a saint.
“I’m just fumbling through my days.”
“Trying not to screw this up and failing.”

The little white house across the road
Sitting facing me.
An older lady once lived alone.
She was sixty-three.

Never saw any visitors there
Not even holidays.
About eleven years ago.
She up and passed away.

That brick house to the left just there
With Trump signs in the yard.
Lives a preacher who drives a truck.
His name is Bill Bernard.

He spends all his time on the road
His wife just sits at home
Many men come to run the train
The moment he is gone.

No one tells him
Hell, not even me.

Chorus 2


I’ll bet I know what you must think of me.
I’m not the fool you seem to think I am.
I’m not the fool you seem to think I am.

This is closer than I ever want to be.
Don’t give a damn what you must think of me.

The Boss

Matt Cantrell

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