Une chanson contre la violence conjugale...
A song against domestic violence...

Composer/Arrangements/Guitars/Slide : Philippe SEGUINARD
Songwriter : Guillaume DULER
🎸J I M🎙️: @user-759566380

Piano/Synth/Arrangement : Régis GAUBERT  musicoman@wanadoo.fr soundcloud.com/robspiritduo/tracks

Vocal/iIntro&Final text : DelhyA

J'entends les cris là-haut d'une autre qui se débat , d'une femme qui pour cette fois ci n'est pas moi. Rien ne doit transparaitre , je ne dois pas laisser mes larmes couler et se frayer un chemin jusqu'à mes lèvres scellées . Et même si les bleus sous ma peau se réveillent , je dois les ignorer et agir comme si tout était pareil...


La peur de lui parce qu'un verre de trop
surtout se fondre invisible sans mots
elle en vit par la force à coté de la vie
prisonnière isolée sans porte de sortie
cécité de son sang et de ses amitiés
ne pas parler se taire rien ne doit transpirer
se voiler d' un rideau de tissus de mensonge
triste jeu de cache cache qui consume et qui ronge

Et il dit qu'il l'adore...Toujours un peu plus fort... jusqu'à la mort

mentir au soleil quand la lune voit tout
les nuits sont cruelles écrasées de tabous
la honte qui maquille la vérité trop laide
qui étouffe les cris de ces appels à l'aide (help!)
accoudés au silence les sévices bien tranquilles
se prennent du bon temps ils jouent à domicile
au coupable les mains pleines de frappes de raisons
à la victime le doute de fuir sa déraison

Et il dit qu'il l'adore...Toujours un peu plus fort... jusqu'à la mort

le sourire de façade sous des tonnes de semblants
donner le change à celles comblées par leurs amants
vider ses yeux de tout ce qui pourrait trahir
ces miroirs là qui font qu'elle ne pourrait mentir
les bleus des sentiments qui lui cognent à la peau
violence d'un élément qui laisse sur le carreau
un corps vandalisé mort pour la fratrie
tombé au champ d'horreur abattu par celui

Qui disait qu'il l'adore...Toujours un peu plus fort... jusqu'à la mort

des baisers dans la gueule
caresses à poings fermés
d'un amour qui dégueule
de passions débordées

La tendresse des coups (quelle tendresse?)

Je ne peux les laisser atteindre ce rivage muet… où les vagues d'une mer intérieure contenue se brisent en silence...
———————————————————————————————————
I can hear the cries of another woman struggling, a woman who this time is not me. I mustn't let anything show, I mustn't let my tears flow and make their way to my sealed lips. And even if the bruises under my skin awaken, I must ignore them and act as if everything were the same...

Fear of him because one glass too many
above all melting away invisible without words
she lives by force beside life
prisoner isolated with no way out
blindness of her blood and her friendships
don't talk shut up nothing must transpire
veil itself with a curtain of cloth of lies
sad game of hide and seek that consumes and gnaws away

And he says he adores her...always a little harder... until death

lie to the sun when the moon sees all
nights are cruel crushed by taboos
shame that disguises the truth too ugly
that muffles the cries for help
crouched in silence quiet abuse
have a good time they play at home
to the guilty hands full of strikes of reasons
to the victim the doubt to flee his folly

And he says he loves her... always a little harder... until death

the facade of a smile under tons of pretence
giving the lie to those fulfilled by their lovers
emptying her eyes of anything that might betray
those mirrors that make it impossible for her to lie
the bruises of feelings pounding against her skin
violence of an element that leaves
a vandalized body dead for the siblings
fallen in the field of horror shot by the one

who said he adores her...always a little harder... until death

kisses in the face
caresses with closed fists
of a love that spews out
of overflowing passions

The tenderness of blows

I can't let them reach that mute shore again where the waves of a continuous inner sea break in silence...

La tendresse des coups (with 🎸JIM🎙️and Régis GAUBERT)

Lyrics & Vocals by FRAWSTAKWA
https://soundcloud.com/frawstakwa
https://soundcloud.com/frawstakwa-for-you

Produced by Chief Red Squirrel & Cosmic Keanu
Bass & Trumpet by Cosmic Keanu

Begin To End (FRAWSTAKWA & Cosmic Keanu)

Goodness in you

Years

Dantian

COMPLETE LINER NOTES HERE---> https://mystictapedeck.com/bards/the-clock-of-the-four-winds/

The clock of the four winds is a tall-case grandfather style clock originally assembled in 1710 by an Italian astronomer and mathematician named Ricco Foscari, a direct patrilineal descendant of famed explorer, vintner and occultist, Cosimo Foscari. The magical properties of the clock were such that when its hands were moved and positioned in certain configurations, it would trigger remote viewing events which would be projected onto the glass panel cover. The clock was also rumored to serve as a sort of “beacon” used for summoning an other-dimensional being named “Desdinova” who acted as a sort of intermediary between detached yet interconnected causal timelines.


LYRICS:
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The chariots lie broken exhausted from war
The wheels rolled off in the mud
In the morning all good things are good
The sun warms up the mud

Stillness is raptured in all its arising
The seeds grow up from the mud
In the morning the dawn weighs a feather
The insects hatch from the mud

The hunger for sunlight draws flies to the surface
The babies wake up in the mud
In the morning from green murky waters
To wiggle around in the mud

Bones growing hollow, the gills turn to lungs
Gasping for breath in the mud
The fins turn to legs the scales turn to vellum
As feathers shake loose from the mud

Fly high, all you flying high birds 
While the warm western winds are beneath you
Oh you soaring high birds
The sky coming down to greet you
We’re all dying to meet you

The bird, the great swooping bird
Beak open, gobbling gold
Oh you soaring high bird
The north winds are growing cold
Feathers flush with colors bold

Now pretend you are the sun
Feathers flush with colors bold…
Now pretend you are the sun

The southern winds, the washboard clouds
Diving daringly during the day
Teetering upon the tip of the tree
The seasons will have their way
Tail feathers turning to gray

Scatter little birds, oh you tiny little birds
The easterly light is encroaching
Seeds spilled upon the ground
 With the end of the autumn approaching
And the seasons must have their way…

Now pretend you are the sun
And the seasons must have their way…
Now pretend you are the sun 

And the seasons must have their way…

Rider’s final horse has ridden
Puzzle finished, last piece hidden
Oysters chatter on evening tide:
 “I’m Desdinova and I confide,
I am the one you warned me of
I am the leak and the long lost love
And I am the one who will never lie
Deathless, I may never die
By lizard lens and crystal rope
You know me by my telescope”
Scattering stars in hand she shouts:
“The play is what it’s all about
Behind the clock with arms stretched tall
The script is on the western wall
Behold the light that never warms
You’ve been warned, I am the storm”

So raise up your chalice and toast to the moon
And sing to the stars as they flicker and loom
O! Irony! O! Tragedy!
Aching knees don’t fail me now

We slayed the vile dragon who lived in the skies
We bathed in its blood and we pickled its eyes
O! Devilry! O! Revelry!
If my friends could see me now

O! Bravery! Camaraderie!

The last lotus eaters recline in the sun
The race to return  has been finally run
Finality! Causality!
Swept away on swaggering swans

The Clock Of The Four Winds

Lots of subtle guitar layers on this.

Downloadable

A kaleidoscope sea,
waves folding into triangles and circles
as if the ocean had learned to play with blocks. 
Above, the sun unravels into bright shards, 
scattering like toys in the sky. 
It feels joyful, almost innocent. 
Yet every color carries a hush. 
Summer is only tidying up its games before slipping quietly away.

Polygon Equinox

Polygon Equinox ↧

By the light of your flame By Zitou Itou & Albert Paule

Music: Little Man & Janne Hennie
Lyrics & Vocals: Janne Hennie
Instruments & Mix: Little Man 

Listen to Little Man: @user-474544459

The picture is my mothers dog ❤️
Update 4 October: He passed away 2 October.. Rest in peace, little friend ❤️

Lyrics:

Every time I came to visit
You danced around my feet
Made happy noises, barked a song
Lots of cuddles, lots of love

You are my friend, like a brother to me
We could talk, have long good walks
Always faithful, with trust in us
So much comfort in my mothers dog

But now you're tired, you need to rest
I know you did you're very best
I will carry you on our last walk
My little brother, my mothers dog

If I was sad, you licked my hand
could always sense and understand
Whenever something was bad or wrong
You were there, your presence so strong

Take a rest now, my brother, my friend
I'm pretty sure I'll meet you again
Then we'll take a long good walk
Lots of cuddles, lots of love

But now you're tired, you need to rest
I know you did you're very best
I will carry you on our last walk
My little brother, my mothers dog

My Mothers Dog

wrote this song abt some random ass girl on tiktok that followed me back man im a creep
AND i stole skels flow fuck im a unoriginal faggot

see her videos replaying on my phone screen
see her pretty blonde hair, man im coping
does she even think im cool? man im hoping
see her stunning brown eyes, she's a whole dream

atleast i think her eyes are brown, her room is too dark
why did she follow me back? is she attracted
i guess we'll never really know what really happened
cz i cant hit her up first, that'd never happen

things dont go my way
and all these thoughts won't go away
cuz im so fucking parasocial
she doesn't even know my name

she doesn't know my name LMAO

groove sidekick

AVANT GARDE | GUTTER PROG | GARAGE JAZZ

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