Krosan by Night

Krosan By Night

I give her my heart
Brilliant me
I give her my heart
And she deceived me
Now I'm filled with darkness
While you're shining bright
Big dumb moon
Big dumb moon
In a big dumb sky

She got me bewildered
She got me bewitched
She might as well sold me
The Brooklyn Bridge
And now I'm wondering
Why oh why
Big dumb moon
Big dumb moon
In a big dumb sky

Bright fat and full
Looking down at me
In an ocean of stars
Twinkling fancy free
Do you not care
Do you not see
The fool she made of me.

A little betrayal
A little deceit
Nothing new to her
But it's new to me
And it's got me sinking
To the depths of the night
Big dumb moon
Big dumb moon
In a big dumb sky.

On a lovely night
Just like this
I was mistaken by the moonlight
Mistaken by a kid

Now I'm filled with darkness
While you're shining bright
Big dumb moon
Big dumb moon
In a big dumb sky

Big Dumb Moon

'Harry The Hedgehog' is a my tribute to a little hedgehog who wanders peacefully around my garden and whom I have named Harry. He always brings a smile to my face and goes about his business around the garden quietly. reminding me to do the same. 
He isn't without threat though, with the odd cat or dog challenging his right to be in the garden, however in his own quiet way, when threatened, he simply curls up in a spiky ball and awaits their departure.

Walking The Straight And Narrow

Harry The Hedgehog

120bpm over the top dance song with a base of electronic bass and techno drums and solos for flute, trumpet, synth and saxophone. Listen to the nice combination of electronic beats and soloing flute, trumpet and horn!
Picture: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Figure_of_Victory_atop_Exeter_War_Memorial.jpg

Arc de Triomphe

Return Of The Glass Swan Steve Coombes & Belial Pelegrim.

Little Flower

Triple C.Killer or Duke (AntiCommunist Cowboy Clown Killer) lies on the cold, unforgiving table, the harsh fluorescent lights above him feel too bright, piercing through the darkness of his past that he can’t escape. The straps dig into his wrists and ankles, a reminder of the control he once had over others, a power that now slips away like sand through his fingers. It is May 9, 1994, and he knows that time has ticked down to its final moments; the impending lethality of the injection looms larger than his regrets. Near him stands Father Tommy, but in the Duke's disturbed mind, he is more than a preacher. This is Tommy Zygote, the enigmatic founder of Thrashing Zombies. The Duke chuckles quietly, the irony of seeking solace from someone who might turn his story into a twisted anthem not lost on him. As the IV needle pierces his skin, the Duke feels an unsettling pang of vulnerability wash over him. Memories flood in: the faces of the boys, the laughter that filled his home, now mere echoes of a haunted past. Once a celebrated community figure, he now lies bare on this table with nothing but shame to adorn him. “Father,” he begins, words slurring with a mix of fear and catharsis. “I didn’t know I was lost until they started to disappear.” Each word scrapes against his soul. He recalls the terrible grip he had on life, snuffing out the lights of so many young men, intertwined with memories of a stunted childhood where the shadows of his father loomed large, twisted lessons learned through fear. Father Tommy listens, eyes piercing yet strangely understanding. The Duke’s mind drifts, racing through 1970s Chicago, the bustling streets, the secrets whispered behind closed doors, the nights when he donned clown makeup to entertain children. In stark contrast, he realizes his mind housed a jester’s facade that concealed a monster. Heat from the lethal cocktail intensifies as he begins to shake, heart pounding faster. “I wanted to be loved, Tommy,” he confesses, tears breaking through his bravado. “But all I found was this emptiness… this insatiable hunger that gnawed at me.” Each moment ticks by, the weight of time pressing upon him. The Duke remembers the thrill of a hunt, chilling highs that flickered like distant stars, only to fade into the bleak darkness he now inhabits. The taste of blood and betrayal intertwines in his mind, recollections morphing into nightmares swirling around him. “I don’t want to die, not like this,” he murmurs, voice shaky and uncertain. “I wish I could take it all back. I wanted to be someone… anyone.” The IV fluid drips steadily, pulse thrumming louder against the silence surrounding him. “Your sins can’t be unmade, but you can find peace if you truly seek it,” Father Tommy responds, his voice laced with an odd blend of compassion and authority, something the Duke didn’t expect from the man he imagined was merely a conduit to the afterlife. Conflicted emotions swirl; how could peace exist when he has sown chaos? The seconds stretch as if mocking him, every tick resonating within the confines of his torment. As the final wave of the drug courses through him, the Duke’s resolve softens; he feels a strange acceptance settle in, the fabric of his existence unthreading, revealing the faces of his victims one last time. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, not just to Father Tommy, but to the universe, to the innocent lives extinguished by his hands. The world fades, colors dulling like a scene from one of those horror films he admired. “Forgive me,” he whispers, surrendering to the oblivion that beckons him, drowning out the remnants of his broken psyche as death embraces him like a lover he never knew. In those final moments, the tortured mind of the Duke falls silent, enveloped in darkness, leaving behind only echoes of questions reverberating through the void. Tommy leaned down and sung, "You anticommunist motherfucker, Elizabeth Proctor was innocent".

What`s for breakfast

Tripple C Killer

Triple C.Killer.

Solarya  - Fallen [Dualis Records]

💉 “GROOVE INJECTION” – The New Clubbing House Album 💉

Pure rhythm. Pure movement. Pure energy.
Groove Injection hits straight to the heart of the dancefloor — a high-dose of deep basslines, hypnotic percussion, and feel-good house vibes made for packed rooms and late-night sessions.

From Body Heat.wav to Velvet Groove.wav, every track pumps with passion, precision, and that unmistakable club flow. This is the sound of underground euphoria — raw, soulful, and irresistibly addictive.

🎧 Turn up the system. Let the groove take over.

#GrooveInjection #HouseMusic #ClubbingVibes #DeepHouse #TechHouse #FunkyHouse #DancefloorGroove #UndergroundHouse #ElectronicMusic #LateNightVibes #HouseNation #DJSet #BasslineAddict #GrooveControl #Afterhours #RaveCulture #FeelTheBeat #FestivalEnergy #PureHouse #Nightlife #ClubEnergy #BeatportReleases

Backroom Energy

Regen

Song composed and edited in May 2.020.

Music Studio, with native instruments, Kv331 Synthmaster player and One.

Beyond the heaven

I'm a multi genre composer and songwriter.👇

Follow me for downtempo, cinematic, (nu) jazz, ambient and other music! 

Aim is to have an impact on your mood :-). Enjoy!

Love, Peter

Arc de Triomphe

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