It’s two in the morning, the sirens blare slow,
The avenue shivers in blue and red glow.
Your name comes in crackles like some AM band—
A prayer half-erased by a tremoring hand.

They said you grew feathers, or maybe just fled—
The house in Montclair with the books by the bed.
I still have your postcards, the margins all burned,
That poem you scratched where the page wouldn't turn.

Oh, the silver thread you pulled through the storm,
Tied to my finger to keep myself warm.
And Mary — yes, she’s here — she still waits by the door,
She's always right there and ready for more.

Do you still wear that coat — the one stitched with stars?
The collar all frayed from the backseat of cars.
It smelled like wet cedar and missed subway stops,
You’d vanish for months with your key to the shop.

I dreamt you last night in your Lutheran coat,
You said, “Don’t forgive me, just finish the note.”
And I did, though it bled through the back of the page—
The ink like a memory you couldn’t quite cage.

Oh, the silver thread you wove through your flight,
Lit up like tinsel and burned into night.
And Mary — she still sings in the kitchen at dawn,
But her voice, it has shadows where yours would belong.

Well, what can I tell you, my ghost from the floor?
You left in a hurry, but you haunt even more.
I saw your reflection in windows half-shut,
And the mail you addressed me still smells of burnt 

Oh, the silver thread, it frays where it ends,
But I still wear the knot where your silence extends.
And Mary — she forgives you, and where you have been,
And I… I remember you more than you mean.

Wicker Street

A cinematic, acoustic memoir of Southern twilight. Across 11 tracks, it weaves porchlight intimacy with gospel grit, blending Chicago blues, Motown warmth, and folk storytelling into a cohesive emotional arc.

Train to Nowhere

Bring Back the Smoke

A hidden current beyond time, flowing against the darkness. “The River of Light” is a journey of spirit, mystery, and trans✨ If this resonates with you, share it and let the river flow.

🎵 The River of Light & Soul

This dark pop ballad explores the raw, imperfect nature of love—not as romance or perfection, but as a quiet act of endurance. The lyrics trace the emotional terrain of forgiveness, patience, and vulnerability, revealing how love survives through silence, bruises, and the courage to stay. With whispered confessions and cinematic restraint, the song moves through intimate verses, fragile choruses, and a haunting instrumental section that breathes like memory. It’s a portrait of love as a slow, painful, and beautiful process of learning to breathe again.

---

Lyrics – Learning to Breathe Again

Intro  
soft breath, the room folds in on me  
clock ticks sideways, the light leans in  
you trace the edge where silence lives  
I breathe slow, pretending to begin

Verse 1  
you hold my jacket like a borrowed shield  
your smile folds secrets we refuse to yield  
we count the cracks and tape them with our hands  
we map the quiet places where the night expands

Pre Chorus 1  
I catalog the pauses and the small lies  
soft mercy whispers where the gentle truth dies  
forgiveness tastes like someone else’s name  
I practice saying sorry when I’m to blame

Chorus 1  
love isn’t sunlight perfectly framed and hung  
it’s bruised and patient, learning how to breathe and run  
it’s faith that holds when laughter turns to steam  
it’s staying through the ache, it’s keeping the dream

Verse 2  
you laugh and the ceiling forgets the rain  
for a minute we are whole, unmarked by pain  
the tide pulls secrets till they show our hands  
we fold the truth until it barely stands

Interlude  
thin light through curtains, half a song above  
we hum the missing lines like they might be enough  
the room inhales slowly, keeps our small deceit  
we breathe the empty spaces where our halves meet

Verse 3  
you say forever in a voice that almost breaks  
I keep a list of promises and the mistakes  
I count the tiny mercies nobody sees  
your hand on my low ribs when the storm agrees

Pre Chorus 2  
every small forgiveness feels like brave repair  
we learn the tender language of the dare  
we stitch the nightly fractures into seams  
we barter fear for faith and borrowed dreams

Chorus 2  
love is not a picture kept inside a frame  
it’s the bruise that breathes and whispers out your name  
it’s patient, faithful, gentle when it hurts  
it’s leaning toward the wound and keeping it from worse

Verse 4  
midnight confessions clog the sink with doubt  
we polish off the empty places, wipe them out  
you press your head into the hollow of my chest  
we practice being strangers learning how to rest

Bridge  
sometimes love is a punch that lands beneath the ribs  
it knocks the air and leaves a bruise that keeps  
sometimes grace arrives as small, cheap light  
a quiet hand that stays to learn the night

Instrumental Section  
hmmm, a long breath held and then released  
ahhh, wordless shapes that learn to intercede  
mmmh, a pulsing quiet grown to full air  
huhh, the chest remembers how to care

Reprise Pre Chorus  
count the pauses, how the small things lie  
count the mercy that we both deny  
count the tiny sorries folded in the night  
count the courage that keeps choosing right

Chorus Reprise  
love is not a picture, not a perfect frame  
it’s the bruise that learns to breathe and speak your name  
it’s patience, faith, forgiveness when we break  
it’s staying when the harmless pieces shake

Interlude Reprise  
we hum the missing lines until they fit  
we draw the cracked edges with a softer wit  
we fold the light around the places torn  
we hum until the shape is newly born

Outro  
soft breath, the room folds out into the night  
your shadow learns the fragile edges of light  
we hold the hush between the heart and skin  
we let the small forgiveness live within

---

© 2025 Martin Oliver Beinersdorf. All rights reserved.  
Lyrics and concept by Martin Oliver Beinersdorf. Do not reproduce, distribute, or adapt without explicit permission.

Learning to Breathe Again

You were the right kind of wrong,
The fight I still hum along.
If I could go back, I’d play that song,
And let it ruin me all night long.
Yeah, you were the right kind of wrong.

Right Kind of Wrong

Elysium is a spiritual, cinematic folk ballad by Luminor, blending lush, intimate instrumentation — finger-picked guitar, banjo, cello, and upright bass — with a reflective and redemptive vocal style. The song explores themes of love, loss, and the enduring journey toward peace. Written in F♯ minor, the track builds through natural, organic textures, capturing the haunting beauty of life’s quiet yet powerful connections.

Elysium

(Verse 1)  
Heart flatlined, no pulse left,  
You’re the code that I regret.  
Every beat’s an empty hue,  
Since I fell in code blue.  

(Pre-Chorus)  
You were rhythm, now you’re gone,  
Still, my veins play your song.  

(Chorus)  
Code blue — I crash again,  
Drowning deep in digital rain.  
Your silence cuts through me too,  
My world ends in shades of you.  

(Verse 2)  
Wires hum your melody,  
Love feels like a felony.  
Every spark’s a wound renewed,  
You’re my ghost in solitude.  

(Bridge)  
Save my heart, or let it die,  
Either way, I’ll justify.  

(Outro)  
Code blue — no one knew,  
You were pain, and beauty too.  


Code Blue

Call Me Baby

An atmospheric, candlelit collection of classic Christmas hymns, arranged with simplicity, sincerity, and quiet spiritual depth.

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

[Verse 1]
Got a picture of my daddy,
Worn soft around the sides.
He taught me how to stand my ground,
Not how to quiet my mind.
There’s a lighter from my wild years,
Still half-full of gasoline—
Some memories spark too easy,
Some don’t ever come out clean.

[Pre-Chorus]
I don’t talk about it much—
But it’s the weight behind my touch…

[Chorus]
These are the things I carry—
The ones that made me, broke me, saved me.
Every mile on this heart’s old tread
Comes from folks who tried to change me.
I ain’t proud of every story,
But they’re the truth that lives inside me…
Yeah, love me right and you’ll still find
The things I carry.

[Verse 2]
There’s a little bit of anger
I keep buried in my chest.
Shows up when I’m worn down—
Reminds me what’s still left.
Got a prayer I stole from Mama,
Got a fear I learned alone…
Funny how the same two hands
Build a life or throw a stone.

[Pre-Chorus]
Still learnin’ how to choose
What to keep and what to lose…

[Chorus]
These are the things I carry—
The ones that shaped me, pushed me, dared me.
If I hold on hard or love too long,
It’s ’cause someone tried to spare me.
I ain’t proud of every story,
But they ride along beside me…
Yeah, walk with me and you’ll still feel
The things I carry.

[Bridge]
One day I’ll lay ’em down—
Find a little peace somehow.
But ’til that day, just understand…
I’m doin’ the best I can.

[Final Chorus]
These are the things I carry—
Not excuses, just what made me.
If you stay, I’ll share the load
Of all the ghosts that chase me daily.
I ain’t proud of every chapter,
But if you want the whole story…
Come close and I’ll let you hold
The things I carry.


The Things I Carry

Houston Texas but the pain made me. You can’t define me. I do it for the love of the game 🖤.  I have been working on and making music for over 20 years. I've put a lot of my older songs on here, but the most recent songs are new. I appreciate you and I hope my music finds you right where you are.

Right Kind of Wrong

TriLL