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Flying High

Heightened Senses

Frolicking

Guitar by Rafael Rosa @rafael-rosa-72
Music Composed and Arranged by Ryan Pace Sloan

Where Eagles Fly ft. Rafael Rosa

Aftermath

Lost in the Sun

Santur Stomp

Silent Sequence

This song is another true story inspired by a conversation I had with my astrologer friend @DJShAnkAri. We were talking about my garage sale blues, (Pluto Blocked My Path - 
https://on.soundcloud.com/tywNJmqaPIonULWAFy) and she shared some insights about my chart, mentioning Pluto blocking my path and Uranus striking my Sun. I wrote both songs after that conversation. But what really sparked this song was when she started talking about how humans act like machines without even realizing it. She shared a funny story about her broken refrigerator handle and how she and her son Aurélien would constantly forget it's broken and try to open it the old way.

The song is about being stuck in routines and habits, and how we often act on autopilot without even thinking. It's a relatable story about how we can get caught up in these patterns and struggle to break free. I wrote this song to highlight the humor and frustration in these moments, and to poke fun at ourselves for being so predictable. The song's catchy melody and lyrics are meant to make you laugh and nod your head in recognition, because let's be honest, we've all been there - reaching for that fridge handle and getting a big surprise! 😉 😅🤣😂

*Huge thanks to @DJShAnkAri for the inspiration AGAIN, and for being such a wonderful friend! Your stories and insights always spark something creative in me, and I'm so grateful for our conversations. Love you sis.  🫶❤️🫂😘


LYRICS:

[Verse 1]
Wake up, shuffle, brush my teeth,
Same old hallway, same two feet.
Coffee, mail, and autopilot stares,
Life’s a dance of broken chairs.
Repetition runs the show,
I'm the star—I barely know.
Reach for the fridge, routine intact...
WHAM! No handle. Cold attack.

[Chorus]
Fridge got me again!
Like a ghost in my hands, I slip and I bend.
Thirty-five times, I curse and pretend—
"I'm not that dumb!" but I'm fooled again.
We’re machines in disguise, with flesh and bones,
Running scripts on auto, in broken homes.
Fridge got me again... yeah, fridge got me again!

[Verse 2]
Aurélien laughs, then takes his turn,
Reaches out—and gets burned.
"Shit! I’m stupid!" echoes loud,
In this household of the programmed crowd.
You don’t know how deep it goes,
Till the fridge handle shows the code.
We move like ghosts in habits tight,
Try to wake, but it's a fight.

[Chorus]
Fridge got me again!
Like muscle memory playing pretend.
Open sesame—but there's no end!
Just a door that won’t bend to my mental trend.
We’re machines with dreams, but the tape still rolls,
On loops and triggers and mindless goals.
Fridge got me again... oh fridge got me again!

[Bridge]
Try to break the loop, I swear I will...
But my hand jumps out, against my will.
No conscious thought, just pure routine—
The ghost of logic, a kitchen scene.
Is it just the fridge or everything?
Are we dancing wires on puppet strings?

[Final Chorus]
Fridge got me again!
Like I’m chasing ghosts with an empty hand.
Laugh, fall back, I can barely stand,
In this tragicomic fridge-mishap land.
We’re machines with love, machines with flaws,
Running ancient scripts with modern claws.
Fridge got me again... yeah, fridge got me again!

[Outro]
"Shit! I’m stupid!"
"No, no… you're just human, kid."


Fridge Got Me Again

Suicide Club

When someone you’re either real close to or love with everything you’ve got is dying, and you know they don’t have long left, you go through just about every emotion possible. This one would most likely be the desperation stage.

Don't Go

Feeli`n fine

Heartfelt

Single Use And Recycled: songwriter, guitars
https://on.soundcloud.com/wbil6gw083u3vWAH5j

Rob: bass, lyrics/vocals

Sick, lonely, naked, a fool
Accumulated wealth means nothing
Can’t take it where I’m going
All the money won’t feed an empty soul

Sick, lonely, naked, a fool
Recall to mind the place and time
Given opportunity
Sit and wait for the perfect moment
Next thing it’s gone

Safe, happy, fine clothes so cool
Crack the outer shell
Center
Regrets, we’ve all got some
Navigate challenges that come

Accumulated wealth means nothing
All the money won’t feed an empty soul

Sick, Lonely, A Fool

the madman from New York

a hypnotic 90’s trance vibe, dynamic sound, dynamic, trance, synth-driven, arpeggiated leads, upbeat energy with layered tech trance elements, features pulsating synth pads

https://suno.com/song/160154af-9f75-46d9-ae00-0860fb0a436f

Magma

Electronic Music Producer, Composer, Arranger. Graduate of Berklee College of Music Online and the EDM PROD Producer Launchpad. 

To all those who have followed me during my journey into EDM Production, Thank you. There is more to come. Stay tuned.

Flying High

Ryan Pace Sloan

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