
what it is
is what it is
and what it ain’t
don’t worry me
things I do
don’t weigh me down
what goes around
comes around
and if I have a song to sing
what I have is everything

i have a cure for the lonely silence
a tonic for the low hanging blues
i’ve got a same-old-same-old discombobulator
that sets my toes a-tappin in my shoes
i have the whole world waiting at my doorstep
and friends who love me for myself
i have a million billion galaxies above me
and tonight I’m glad I’m not somebody else

what it is
is what it is
and what it ain’t
don’t worry me
things I do
don’t weigh me down
what goes around
comes around
and if I have a song to sing
what I have is everything

i have a cure for the lonely silence
a tonic for the low hanging blues
i’ve got a same-old-same-old discombobulator
that sets my toes a-tappin in my shoes
i have the whole world waiting at my doorstep
and friends who love me for myself
i have a million billion galaxies above me
and tonight I’m glad I’m not somebody else

what it is
is what it is
and what it ain’t
don’t worry me
things I do
don’t weigh me down
what goes around
comes around
and if I have a song to sing
what I have is everything

What It Is

Dive into the depths of desire and destruction. Through the metaphor of ink and skin, this track explores the addictive beauty of toxic love - a masterpiece carved with needles and regret. Let the water close over you.

Beautifully Ruined

Float the tide to the sea. All the signs point to Jesus
Float the tide to the sea. Roll over me, free

Left my dreams in a sack on a street in Savannah
Left my dreams in a sack, don't care to look back

- Stolen kisses, stolen dreams, never what they seemed to be

Had our day in the sun, found rest in your shadow
Had our day in the sun. Everything's undone

sheet music https://drive.google.com/file/d/1RFfHxpOylWHDF72Y-QGMiiiLMPqb3vuO/view?usp=drive_link
4.1

FLOAT THE TIDE

what if every choice we make is just a coin flip down to hell
what if freedom’s just a rumor whispered in a neon gate
what if all the things we kill are the ones we shoulda let create

What if

since the eighteenth of march, the waves been rising
seven hundred seventy five thousand times you breathed life into the horizon
every day about three thousand hearts pressed play
and I swear it feels like some unseen force guiding the way
I never thought these numbers would touch my name
never thought this little universe would spark into flame
but here we are
and every echo you sent comes back like a star

Carried by the Sound

Low-key UK hip hop for the generation left waiting for answers that never come.
A calm, grounded anti-prophecy about work, meaning, bias, AI, hustle, and the quiet truth that no leader is coming to save you.
Understated, wry, human — advice whispered from someone who refuses to call himself a mentor.
If you’ve ever looked for direction and realised the mirror talks back louder than the world… this one’s for you.

DIAMOND SCULPTOR

THE PROPHECY (ANTI-PROPHET)

START THE THING THAT FEEDS YOU

“Tristesse” is a summer dream slowly turning into memory — a French-cinema folk album set on the coast, where heat softens everything except the truth.
These twelve songs follow a young woman through a season of desire, mischief, consequence and quiet self-recognition.

There is sunlight and sea air, the illusion of freedom, the thrill of plans made too lightly — and the stillness that comes when innocence finally cracks.
Chanson-inspired vocals, soft acoustic textures, and intimate, breath-close production carry the story from a bright villa above the water to the long, grey September that follows.

An album about youth, about the games we play without understanding their cost, and about the melancholy that returns each year like a familiar guest.

A warm coastline.
A single season.
A heart learning its limits.

The Order She Brings

Lost in you Feat Quantum me

"Tunnel Vision" is the moment the world narrows into a single, necessary line.
A life shaped not by what is chosen, but by what is surrendered —
the unopened doors, the gentle disappointments, the quiet refusals that carve a person into the outline they were meant to be.
Here the beat moves like breath under pressure: fast, focused, inevitable.
Cello murmurs at the edges like a second conscience,
and London’s night pulse threads itself through the cadence.
This is the sound of stepping into a mission so completely
that the noise falls away,
and the tunnel becomes not confinement,
but revelation.

The process is the product.
The cut becomes the self.

The Artst's Guide to Not Growing Up: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Artists-Guide-NOT-growing/dp/152724217X

The Formula

Ever feel like you've been playing quantum leap in your own life?

The Formula

Quantum me

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