In the low light
On a long night
There's a new sound
Shaking the ground

(Pre-Chorus)
A shared look
The old rules shook
We're all in sync
On the brink

(Chorus)
Yeah, something's coming
A new drum is drumming
Yeah, something's here
And the feeling's clear

(Verse 2)
It's a strong pull
The room is full
Of a wild force
On a new course

(Pre-Chorus)
A shared look
The old rules shook
We're all in sync
On the brink

(Chorus)
Yeah, something's coming
A new drum is drumming
Yeah, something's here
And the feeling's clear

(Bridge)
We won't turn back
On this new track
This is the change
To rearrange

(Chorus)
Yeah, something's coming
A new drum is drumming
Yeah, something's here
And the feeling's clear

(Outro)
Something's coming
Something's here
Something's coming
The feeling's clear

In the low light III

Golden Sunday

Sin wears my perfume,

Verse 1
There’s lipstick left on your alibi,
Sweet lies dripping like a lullaby.
You say confession, but your hands still shake,
Baby, heaven don’t forgive mistakes.

Pre-Chorus
I walk away, but I linger in the room,
Every sin you love still wears my perfume.

Chorus
Sin wears my perfume, on your skin tonight,
You chase redemption, but it won’t bite.
Every kiss you crave, it’s the same old tune,
’Cause sin, baby, sin wears my perfume.

Verse 2
Ash in the glass where the whiskey burned,
You preach salvation, but you never learn.
You kneel for mercy, but you can’t disguise,
That you want the devil when you see my eyes.

Pre-Chorus
I haunt your sheets, I haunt your truth,
Every sin you hide still smells like proof.

Chorus
Sin wears my perfume, on your skin tonight,
You chase redemption, but it won’t bite.
Every kiss you crave, it’s the same old tune,
’Cause sin, baby, sin wears my perfume.

Bridge
I don’t fade, I don’t wash away,
I stay on your soul like the price you pay.
Call it lust, call it doom,
Either way, it smells like my perfume.

Final Chorus
Sin wears my perfume, your halo’s gone,
You beg for heaven, but you beg me wrong.
Every prayer you make just blooms too soon,
’Cause sin, baby, sin wears my perfume.

Outro (smoky whisper)
Sin… wears my perfume.

Sin Wears My Perfume

2025 Before All This by winkandwoo and Billy Korg
Lyrics by winkandwoo
winkandwoo on soundcloud: @winkandwoo

Lyrics :-
I wonder what
I was doing
Not a lot
Before all this
I wonder what
Was my calling
Stuck in a rut
Before all this

And day by day
And year by year
It fades away
Becomes unclear

Is this the path I should be on
Now that I'm here

A midnight chancer
A moonlight dancer
A real champagner
An entertainer

Billy Korg / winkandwoo 2025

Before All This

Trapparappa joke crew, MBStudio and Magilla computer programming 

Il Valzer del Lattaio

I ain't forgettin', I won't forget (Cover UK)

MBStudio91 Magilla style 


Trainer (spoken, over the beat):
"Yo. Check the rhythm. Feel the groove.
This ain't just fightin', it's a move.
Apollo's singin'? Nah, we the band.
Gold medals? We takin' 'em, hand over hand.
Put your gloves up. Let's begin.
Welcome to the studio where the champions win."



Down in the dungeon where the dreams get hard
Concrete floor, smell of sweat and fightin' hard
Old school master, with a stare that's ice
Teachin' the science, payin' the price
See the youngbloods, hungry in the haze
Dodgin' jabs in a rhythmic daze
Footwork slick, a funky ballet
Makin' the heavy bag swing and sway
It's a language of power, a poetry of pain
Wash away the struggle in the sweat and the rain
He don't just train fighters, he builds a man
From the bottom of the city, with a concrete plan.


In the Boxe Studio! (Yeah!) Where the funk meets the fight! (Come on!)
Every punch thrown is a beat in the night! (Work!)
From the basement shadows to the Olympic light!
In the Boxe Studio! (Uh-huh!) Make the rhythm right!


Shadowboxin' to the tape's cassette hiss
Weavin' and bobbin', ain't a moment to miss
The rope a blur, a hypnotic twirl
Forgin' a body of iron and pearl
Trainer's mantra, a funky rap:
"Keep your guard up, don't fall for the trap!
The ring's a discotheque, you're the main star
Dance on the canvas, no matter how far!"
He sees the glory before we even land a shot
Says this grimy gym is the only sacred spot
Where the rhythm of struggle is the only sound
'Til that final bell and your hand gets raised up off the ground.

In the Boxe Studio! (Yeah!) Where the funk meets the fight! (To the top!)
Every punch thrown is a beat in the night! (Throw it!)
From the basement shadows to the Olympic light!
In the Boxe Studio! (Uh-huh!) Make the rhythm right!



The city sleeps... the streetlights glow...
But down below... the fire grows.
It's more than metal, more than gold...
It's a story waiting, brave and bold.
He whispers, "Kid, you gotta understand...
The toughest opponent is the one inside the man.
So dance with your demons, make 'em miss and slip...
This Boxe Studio is your survival trip."


bag punches, feet shuffling, the hiss of a jump rope.)
"Alright, that's the round. Breathe. Feel that funk?
That's the sound of a champ, before the trunk.
The world's a tough place, it's a brutal game...
But you just learned to move it, with a different aim.
Now cool down. Hydrate. The beat goes on.
The Boxe Studio... 'til the break of dawn."

In the Boxe Studio

You're Gonna Miss Me

Music and keyboards, computer graphic&programming
and some noise...  work on Ableton LIVE, Synapse DUNE and Lennar Digital Sylenth and more Q 
"Music Held in Old Frames,
For Ears That Tame Wild Beats.
60 Years, 3x20 Brains –
Crafting Sound Since ’86."


Collab:  
Nikelodeon Opera
laquerciaJR. 
MBStudio91©
VersoSud
Nerocaravaggio

Magilla 
Trapparappa

make music make noise make happiness and destroy low budget woofers

In the Boxe Studio

mIrcOzio!

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