middle class rut

🎵 Ripped Jeans
By The Mainside Project

Coffee stains on my ripped jeans
Late-night smoke, busted TV screens
Concrete streets keep dragging me
Another night with no release

Every step just wears me down
Every word’s a violent sound

Ripped jeans, torn at the seams
Carrying the dirt of shattered dreams
Nothing clean, nothing redeemed
I wear my life like ripped jeans

Broken glass beneath my shoes
Empty bottles, nothing new
Neon lights don’t make me stay
I keep moving anyway

Every hour feels the same
Every face forgets my name

Ripped jeans, torn at the seams
Carrying the dirt of shattered dreams
Nothing clean, nothing redeemed
I wear my life like ripped jeans

Frayed and raw, I can’t pretend
The threads I wear will never mend
Still I walk, still I breathe
In my ripped jeans, I believe

Ripped jeans, torn at the seams
This dirty world is all it seems
I’m still here, against the stream
And I wear my soul like ripped jeans

Coffee stains, a wasted scene
Ripped jeans, my silent scream.

Ripped Jeans

“Ghost in the Machine” is a theatrical rock-opera concept album that explores humanity’s fragile soul in an age of algorithms, artificial intelligence, and digital control. Blending humor with drama, the album follows a journey from technological euphoria to quiet existential fear, questioning what remains truly human when life becomes driven by code, data, and machines. Through epic, operatic rock and satirical storytelling, the album reveals that even inside cold systems, a spark of individuality, rebellion, love, and soul refuses to disappear. It is a celebration of human imperfection — and a warning about what we might lose if we ever forget it.



Rebel in the Circuit

Was ever devil fooled so blind,
I sold the storm to still my mind,
All hell shall howl for two long weeks,
For Shipton’s soul the silence speaks.
Candles bleed, the mirrors cry,
Heaven hides behind the lie.
Let them roar, let them fall,
I despise their burning call,
In the dark I’m purified,
The higher powers make me wise.
A fortnight lost, the void resumes,
The choir of ash, the scent of tombs,
The devils dance in velvet chains,
But I walk free through holy flames.
Whispered prayers, electric sighs,
Echo through the broken skies.
Let them roar, let them fall,
I despise their burning call,
In the dark I’m purified,
The higher powers make me wise.
Let them roar, let them fall,
I despise their burning call,
In the dark I’m purified,
The higher powers make me wise.
Let them roar, let them fall,
I despise their burning call,
In the dark I’m purified,
The higher powers make me wise.


One Debt Away

Middle Class Rut

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