Name: IndieRockNotRap.m1a by Modern Life / / Uncle Herb Productions
Duration: 2 min 30 s
Description: Script

Nice track, ML.  Not overproduced let the guitar chords ring out.

IndieRockNotRap.m1a

No body Biz How I Freak U

No fear | made on the Rapchat app (prod. by doomsquad sounds)

tryna infuse edm wit rock thanks for ur support and I always reciprocate! I go through comments and likes. I hear y'all's music whereas I prefer underground artist

DOES IT FEEL GOOD TO LEAVE THIS WORLD

Ya'll have know idea what we bouta unleash...........................

Chello Coming Home Prod. Local Beat Plug

la la

Solo Piano - Chris Bright

gonna start now

BRAZIL SONG 02

Once upon a Christmas, a young boy was given a gift that would fill his heart with joy for many years. Under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, he tore open the bright wrapping paper to reveal a clown doll with a painted smile and big, friendly eyes. The boy’s face lit up with delight. He named the doll Jingles, and from that day on, they were inseparable. Jingles was his constant companion, always by his side as they played games, whispered secrets, and embarked on imaginary adventures.

Years passed, and as the boy grew older, his interests began to change. The magic of childhood slowly gave way to the realities of growing up. Jingles, once his most treasured possession, was left behind, a silent witness to the boy’s changing world. One day, without a second thought, the boy packed Jingles away in an old, dusty trunk and stowed it in the attic, along with other remnants of his childhood.

Locked away in the darkness, Jingles was forgotten. But the happiness the boy had shared with him remained imprinted on the doll, and his longing for their days together grew stronger with each passing year. The attic was cold and lonely, a far cry from the warmth of the boy’s room where Jingles had once felt so loved. Now, there was only silence. The painted smile began to fade, but Jingles remembered. He remembered every game, every laugh, every moment they had shared. And he waited.

Years went by. The boy became a man and eventually got married. Life moved on, filled with new joys and responsibilities, leaving no room for childhood toys. But one day, while clearing out the attic, the man stumbled upon the old trunk. Curious, he opened it and found Jingles lying inside, covered in dust. A wave of nostalgia washed over him. He picked up the doll, smiling at the memories it brought back, and decided to show it to his wife.

“Look,” he said, bringing Jingles down the creaky stairs. “This was my favorite toy when I was a kid. I used to take him everywhere.”

The wife glanced at the doll with mild interest, then quickly returned to her tasks. She saw nothing more than a tattered old toy, its colors faded and fabric worn. But Jingles saw her. He saw her with eyes that had watched the boy grow, eyes that now burned with a bitter realization. It was her. She was the reason he had been forgotten, the reason he had been left alone in the dark all these years.

As the man left for work the next morning, Jingles sat on a shelf, silently watching the wife. His painted smile, now chipped and eerie, seemed to twist into a sneer. The doll felt a dark resolve take hold of him. He could not bear to be left behind again, to be forgotten. He had to make the man remember the love they once shared, the bond that time could not sever.

That night, as the house lay silent, Jingles moved. Driven by a twisted mix of jealousy and desperation, the doll crept through the shadows, seeking out the wife. In the darkness, Jingles exacted his vengeance. The house echoed with a single, blood-curdling scream, then fell silent once more.

When the man returned home, he found his wife lifeless on the floor, her face frozen in terror. And there, beside her, stood Jingles, his tiny hands stained red, his eyes gleaming with a sinister satisfaction. The man recoiled in horror, but before he could run, Jingles moved again—swift and sure. The last thing the man heard was a soft, whispering voice, almost like a child’s, murmuring in his ear, “Forget me not.”

And then there was silence.

The years passed, the house changed hands, but Jingles remained. He waited, patient and still, his painted smile forever etched onto his face. 

On another cold Christmas morning, a new family moved in. Under the Christmas tree, among the brightly wrapped presents, there lay a single, unmarked box. A little girl, her eyes wide with excitement, tore open the paper. Inside, she found a doll with a painted smile and big, friendly eyes. She hugged it tightly, delighted with her new companion.

Forget Me Not

Six Days Sc

I have tried to optimise this old song.

Lyrics:
Winter in the North

The winter has arrived to us and its cold outside
and the sky turns into blue - and we can see small creatures  
and they are dancing around the big tree
and they are dancing around the big tree

The fields in the north are white and the day is bright
which makes life much better for - all the folks that live here 
and they are dancing around the big tree
and they are dancing around the big tree

The atmosphere in the north is cool and the arctic fox
have got fur that shines white - and they are bouncing in the snow
cause they are dancing around the big tree
cause they are dancing around the big tree

The people in the north they care for the welfare of 
reindeers grazing on the mountains - they must look up for the wolverine
and they are dancing around the big tree
and they are dancing around the big tree

IndieRockNotRap.m1a

Modern Life / / Uncle Herb Productions

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