your got some cool things going on there.   whith your guitar and whistling..  and of course your vocal are exqusite..  i dont know if i spell that last word correct..  anyway i really enjoy your music.  you got talent.  hope to hear more  :O)

very beautiful song and your vocals are very expressive and beautiful 🙂

I'm about to start crying, wow, so emotional...I'm your new fan..nver stop, more ,more ,more please

Heard this song last night on VOWR The Unsigned Radio Hour with Rayna!

Really sweet song, bravo for putting your soul out front in this. :)

When I Look Into Your Eyes

Untapped IPG1 & Paploviante
This is an open invitation for a collab from Ian Greaves aka (IPG1)
Vocal and Lyrics:
Ian Greaves aka (IPG1)
https://soundcloud.com/ipg1/untapped-voxes-92-bpm
Music:
Paploviante
Lyrics:
Off the top ———-is where it’s at unwrap this —————-gift RAP hitting the streets—-it’s ——pure crack Stone cold —-this trap ——TRACK! Pool of knowledge ——-untapped going —-in —-hard——we do that  Better —-tighten up —-them bootstraps  ———SAY-——-“what the hell ——did Lou snap!!!” swag baby —-The recap  no snags—nah—we stop that!!!
Break the game down--it's a new map Flow so rich--- better check that NASDAQ Eyes on the prize---go the full lap concrete jungle---stuck in the trap
[Verse] From the alleys to the skyline---watch us elevate Living large in the boroughs where we demonstrate Every word a heavy weight--- every rhyme we detonate New York state of mind---watch the Empire State
We on a mission---ain't no intermission, snap back Murals on the walls--- street art on the subway track Ambition in the air, we the kings--- claim the throne Spittin' bars like bullets--- in this zone--- we at home
Icons of the asphalt--- legends in the flesh Droppin' beats so heavy--it’s poundin' in your chest From the 5 boroughs--anthems——- on full blast Queens to the Bronx-- Brooklyn —-movin' fast Elevate the hustle---the spirit never cracks Struggle in the verses —-resilience on the—— tracks

Untapped - IPG1 and Paploviante

This Life Is Short (G. Di Nunno)

Wasting life and know the cost is steep
A slave to habits, sinking deep
Dust collected, dreams and plans were made
Forgot the spots they last were laid.

This life is short
Catch the solid blow
Throwing time away
Soon you come to know.
This life is short
Littered landscapes swell
What you can't get back
Drips inside a well.

Seems things are the same every day
The boring routine, all are alike
What would you do if you had your way?
Could you name them or apply them?

Sit in traffic on your way to work
Dinner, clean-up, television, sleep
Weekend catch-up, then the Sunday blues
Asking yourself is this all there is?

Spoken part:
Seneca said: "it's not that we have a short time to live,
but that we waste a lot of it."
Am I going through an existential crisis?
I feel I'm wasting time
Wasting
Life is so short
Only so much time
A crisis I must defeat
I want to go on.

Want to sit and watch the world unfold
And to do all those things that we used to do
Want to do much more before we're old
A different outlook, better view. 

This life is short
Grabbing all that's left
Sending off the stress
Clean the mental mess.
This life is short
Pull the joy from past
Place it on the now
Living all that's left.

All lyrics, composition, and performance by Gino Di Nunno
Copyright 2024.

#6. This Life Is Short

For An Angel

takechee

Wish

*This image of canned, creamed possum, which I found years ago on the internet, and the idea of canning possum (and possum road kill), has intrigued and fascinated me for some time. As I was writing what I thought was a 'sexy' vocal on top of Oussama's sexy track, this song kept interrupting the process, and so much so that I thought I would get it out of my system to quiet the impulse, and then continue on with the original song.
I actually love possums and think they get a bad rap for being too aggressive. 
Stay tuned for the other version... 

Instrumental by Oussama Arichi
Vocals, Lyrics, Mix: Nadia Selvaggi

Cream Of Possum Soup by Oussama Arichi & Nadia Selvaggi

Composition and Sampling collage by Synline.
Photo by Fabien

The Past Is Gone

The Cyber Prison of Tommy Zygote In the neon-lit corridors of Cyber Prison 3078, where the cries of the guilty echoed through digital walls, one figure commanded the darkness: Tommy Zygote, a time traveler from a band called Thrashing Zombies. He was not only a guard but also the architect of fear, the conjurer of terror dreams that haunted each prisoner in their electric confines. Each day, he danced between timelines and nightmares, weaving unique horrors based on the crimes that had brought these individuals to their fate. Tommy was a master of psychological manipulation, using advanced technology to delve into the minds of the inmates. At the time of arrival, he meticulously analyzed their backgrounds and transgressions. For a thief, the terror dream would materialize as a never-ending chase through a labyrinth of security systems, facing endless obstacles and guards, only to always be captured at the last moment. For a murderer, the nightmare transformed into a harrowing replay of their crime, relived with a growing sense of powerlessness as they witnessed the victim's face in their final moments, over and over again. Each terror dream was devised not only to punish but to break the spirit of the prisoners. The digital realm fed off their fears, manifesting scenarios tailored to their psychological profiles. Tommy Zygote had access to vast databases that cataloged every crime in detail, allowing him to combine facts and fantasies into immersive experiences that tormented the soul. He relished in the creations, knowing that each prisoner would wake battered and terrified, their resolve crumbling away with every cycle. The prison’s organ systems were meticulously designed to prevent shock and demise. When a prisoner entered their dream state, beta blockers were administered to control heart rates, ensuring that even the most fearful of their waking moments would not lead to a fatal event. Monitors scanned vitals constantly, feeding data to the system, which adjusted the intensity of dreams dynamically. If a heart rate spiked too high, the horror would fade into something less distressing, a cruel twist allowing them to survive the terror for another day. The feeding regimen was equally controlled and grim. Each prisoner sustained on a blend of macronutrients delivered through a gastro tube, thin and persistent, allowing for continuous nutrition to maintain physical health while simultaneously stripping away any dignity. A tracheostomy facilitated breathing, enabling the prisoners to inhale and exhale a sterile, filtered air that was devoid of comfort. The design was mechanical, emphasizing the inhumanity of their containment. Sanitation in this high-tech prison was handled with a strict regimen designed to minimize human interaction. An anal tube collected feces, ensuring that every biological need was monitored, while a catheter allowed for urine collection. The result was a clinical, dehumanizing environment devoid of physical autonomy. The prisoners knew they were reduced to mere subjects in a dark experiment orchestrated by an unyielding guardian. Tommy Zygote thrived on this power. To him, control of life and death was not just a task; it was an art form. Every terror dream had an audience, a public viewing option allowing anyone to log on and watch the horrors unfold in real-time. Spectators relished the grim entertainment as they observed the vibrant displays of angst, voyeuristic pleasure derived from the suffering of the condemned. Beneath the chaotic atmosphere, Tommy Zygote became an icon of fear, a living testament to the dystopian legacy of a society that had traded humanity for security. Yet, within Tommy’s intriguing persona lingered the soul of a musician—the Thrashing Zombies’ time traveler—haunted by the remnants of a shattering past. Each prisoner’s story echoed in his mind, a reminder of the thin line between performer and spectator, creator and destroyer.

When I Look Into Your Eyes

Nowhere Man

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