Don't F with You

Accroche-toi

some hearts dont return what you give.

Lyrics: FreakBaby
Beat by: The Ushanka Boy

GoldSlugs_CapeOn

The House of Love

AI Generated lyrics about "Witty Vibes" focusing on the internal experience of being witty.   Through spoken word I have created a speaker persona whose mind runs much faster than ordinary conversation, treating social interaction as a rapid fire mental chess game.    Through rhythmic repetition and strong metaphors, by comparing rebuttal to a tailored suit, i have attempted to give production a dynamically sharp energy that irectly reflects the vibe of "Witty Vibes"

They call it small talk. I call it The preamble to the good stuff, the atmospheric hum. While you’re discussing weather and where your cousin’s coming from, My brain is already five moves ahead, sketching a diagram of the punchline. I’m running a mental marathon on a coffee-break timeline.
See, the silence—that's a vacuum. I can't abide a void. So I fill it with a phrase that's perfectly annoyed, Or one that shines so bright, it gets immediately employed By everyone who hears it. My thoughts? They are unalloyed. No filter. Just precision. That’s the witty vibe.
The world moves in slow motion for the quick-minded mind. I'm watching the geometry of conversation unwind. You say A, I hear B, I've already set the trap. My rebuttal is a tailored suit, yours is a hand-me-down cap.
I'm the editor of the moment. I cut the cliché out. I delete the mundane, the things you think you care about. The pause before I speak? That’s not hesitation, friend, That’s me scrolling through ten options, deciding on the best blend Of sarcasm and truth, the kind that hits with grace, The verbal equivalent of a smile slapped on your face.
I've got an internal rhyming dictionary, always ready to deploy a perfect auxiliary.
They say, "Don't overthink it." I say, "How else do you pre-think it?" You only get one shot to sink it. You’re asking me to shrink it? My intellect? To dim it? To make the edges soft? No, the challenge is to make the brilliance readable and aloft.
I speak in metaphors that bite, not just to sound profound, But because the simple truth is often too loud for dry ground. So I dress it up in cleverness, a suit of sparkling chainmail, So when the insight strikes you, it hits like a witty hailstorm.
I'm an observer. I take notes. I catalog the quirks. The way you hold your coffee, the moment that your temper works. The flaws are the fuel, the humanity's engine oil. And my wit is the high-octane spirit that brings it to a boil.
So if my timing's unexpected, or the laugh tracks the beat, It’s not me trying to show off, it’s just my mind running on fast feet. This cognitive caffeine is the only way I survive. The rhythm of the retort. That's the core of the witty vibe.

Produced in the
ARAPA Music Studio
Sydney - Australia

4.11.2025

You Say A, I Hear B

despair has countless faces. many of these might be masks that despair hides behind so skillfully that not even their owners recognize them. it's no wonder, then, that people affected by this, realize they have a problem but misinterpret its cause completely. somehow it seems more acceptable to consider oneself e.g. angry than to consider oneself feeling desperate, or hurt, or fearful, or lost in doubts.

doubts: puberty is undoubtedly a phase of life characterized by significant doubt. and perhaps one of humanity's central problems stems from our failed approach to dealing with this phase of doubt aka despair. it’s toxic masculinity. 

heaps of bullshit are associated with this buzzword. anyway, I associate it with the oppressive difficulties that our beloved son max had to face during his adolescence – in a world that is fixated on rigid role models in such a merciless, insensitive and ruthless way. toxic…

it's almost impossible to cushion that as a family. of course, you can always talk about it and provide mental support. but the influence of the outside world is far too powerful. so, max went through a period full of doubt, insecurity, and fear, and used a lot of masks to hide it. in the end, he found his way, which was a massive relief to us before his journey came to such an abrupt end. 

max, we love you all the more forever!

the lyrics written in memory of those times have been translated by DeepL without working out corresponding english rhymes. the musical template was provided by a guitar arpeggio piece written and recorded a while ago – without realizing the harmonies aren’t that vocal-friendly. 

that only became apparent when I was working on it with suno. so, I decided to work out two versions. the first closely follows the original backing tracks (including cümbüş for the banjos) and the “guitared” vocal melody. the second is more direct and minimalized, like an inner voice. for that's what it's all about.

©music and lyrics by Hans-Michael Albers, instrumental cover & vocal performance by suno 5

videolization: https://youtu.be/pjj6jEFVg2o?si=kPIXuTvJCWqK8gB5


you wake up tense, breath short, chest tight
already feeling like you gotta prove something today
mirror looking back like, you sure you’re enough?
every silence around you feels like a test you can’t name

be a man, they said
but the rules came wrapped in shame
so you built this armor
made of jokes, smirks, and sideways looks
if you speak soft, you’re weak
if you speak loud, you’re a threat
so you hover somewhere in between
trapped in that quiet panic

you’re tired of holding it in
you’re tired of playing “I am”
don’t know who're you, man
don’t know who're you, man
don’t know who're you, man
don’t know who're you, man
just want to breathe again
just want to breathe again

scrolling through your feed
confidence everywhere
and you hate that you hate it
jealous of the ease they move with
the way they take up space like they belong
you? you shrink inside your shoulders
acting cool while you crumble slow

your jaw locked. hands tight
every move rehearsed
you measure worth in silence
in how little you let slip
can’t bleed, can’t need, can’t bend
so you drown
looking composed the whole time

you’re tired of holding it in …

sometimes you swing
not because you’re strong 
but because you’re scared
scared they’ll see the cracks
the small boy under the armor
you talk loud, but it’s fear wearing a crown
you throw shade, but it’s envy in disguise

you’re trying to unlearn this weight
trying to breathe without proving it
to stop mistaking numb for power
to stop mistaking fear for pride
maybe one day, you’ll stand still
no front, no mask
just you
finally enough

you’re tired of holding it in …

Who're you, Man | Outer Singer

At least I know I’m older than the dirt beneath my feet,
Yet somehow, you, you make my heart still beat.
How could I love you more than now? — yet I do,
And I fear to ever harm the light that shines in you.

If I’ve failed you through my blindness or through time,
Let me bear the weight, not you — not this love of mine.

You are precious — more than air, more than life to me,
If saving you means losing all, then so it be.
I cannot lie, I’ve stood right here all along,
With an honest heart and a steadfast song.

Fate has chained me to the trust that others stole,
But I’ve kept your name carved deep upon my soul.
And though I falter, though my promises may fade,
I’ve never turned from the love that we made.

You are precious — more than air, more than life to me,
If saving you means losing all, then so it be.
I cannot lie, I’ve stood right here all along,
With an honest heart and a steadfast song.

Only one can bring these tears — only you, my one,
Even in the pain, I know what we’ve begun.
For I have come to love the river of my tears,
Where your mercy flows, and my spirit lives.

After the storm, when the sky is clear and wide,
You reach your hand, and I’m walking by your side.
You are precious — my redemption, my release,
In your light, my heart finds peace.

The River of My Tears

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