Name: BACK TO THE PAST by Sim Tuh
Duration: 3 min 56 s
Description: “Back to the Past” is a confession wrapped in rock pain, a letter to the version of myself that still loved someone I lost. It’s about wishing you could rewind time… not to fix it, but to feel it one more time, even knowing it would end the same.

A rework of an old track, as I had originally imaged it.

I Don't Care 2025

My Ride or Die

“Dancing on His Grave” is a defiant southern gothic protest song by Pick’s Hideaway Players, written in response to the glorification of violence and the mocking of loss in the public square. The track tells the story of a man taken down, a Christian father slain, and the cruel celebration that followed.

With haunting guitar swells and a rhythm that cuts like a funeral march, the song explores how society has been twisted to cheer for destruction rather than mourn with compassion. Banjo riffs echo like tolling bells, while the chorus drives home the chilling reality of those who call murder brave.

This is not just a ballad of sorrow — it is a mirror held up to the darkness within modern culture, forcing the listener to reckon with what kind of demons sing when truth is slain.

Dancing on Graves

MARTYR

Anna

Work On Me

Fire in Your Eyes V3

The Good Part

Text:
Intro (spoken, distant):
I opened my eyes in the wrong century.
The sun was digital,
and nobody cared.

Verse 1:
The streets hum like broken organs,
faces glow blue in the night.
I asked a man for a match —
he showed me his phone.

Bridge (spoken, confused):
Where are the drummers?
Where is the smoke?
Where are the women dancing
with fire in their throats?

Chorus (half-sung, echoing):
I’m back from the fever dream,
but the dream forgot my name.
I’m back from the cosmic stream,
but nothing feels the same.

(Solo)

Verse 2:
The poets talk in headlines now,
the lovers swipe instead of kiss.
I saw a mirror on a wall —
it showed me what I missed.

Bridge (spoken, building):
I think I died once,
but no one told me.
They wrote songs,
but forgot the melody.

Chorus (sung stronger):
I’m back from the fever dream,
crawling through the screen.
The dead still write the news,
and the living just read the scene.

Breakdown (spoken, manic):
There’s a god in the algorithm,
a priest in the feed,
a million prophets screaming
what no one needs.

They sell salvation
with an access code,
and I —
I’m just trying to find the road!

(Guitar-Solo)

Final Chorus (sung, echoing):
I’m back from the fever dream,
I came too late to see.
The world moved on without me,
and now —
it dreams of me.

Outro (spoken softly):
Maybe I never died.
Maybe the world did.
And I just woke up
to watch it sleep.

My name is Jim Morriso… äh Jim, only Jim

Lost Ship

Verse 1
Her parents said we were just too young,
Two kids growing up too fast.
 first loves don't  ever last too long,
And all of this soon will pass.
We dreamed for hours in that old blue truck,
Fogged glass under summer stars.
Rode it out when the road got rough,
Now look where we are.

Chorus
They musta been wrong,
They swore we wouldn't last very long
 thought we'd just drift away
But we never saw it that way,
Fixed cracks before they'd break
 we might have made a few mistakes
but we're still here
Right where we belong
Yeah, they musta been wrong.

Verse 2
Found a little place just out of town,
Fixed up and made our own
Hung memories up on  bare new walls,
Yeah now it felt like home
She always kept her faith in me,
When stretched and times were tight,
Didn't listen to doubts we still believed
And now we've made it right

Chorus
They musta been wrong,
They swore we wouldn't last very long
 thought we'd just drift away
But we never saw it that way,
Fixed cracks before ithey'd break
 we might have made a few mistakes
but we're still here
Right where we belong
Yeah, they musta been wrong.

Bridge
Half-cold coffee next to sippy cups,
Dishwasher hum before sun comes up.
Little feet runnin’ down that hall —
Don’t sleep much,  don’t mind at all.

Final Chorus
They musta been wrong,
They swore we wouldn't last very long
 thought we'd just drift away
But we never saw it that way,
Fixed cracks before they'd break
we might have made a few mistakes
but we're still here
Right where we belong
Yeah, they musta been wrong.
Yeah they musta been wrong
Yeah they musta been wrong

Musta been wrong

“Back to the Past” is a confession wrapped in rock pain, a letter to the version of myself that still loved someone I lost. It’s about wishing you could rewind time… not to fix it, but to feel it one more time, even knowing it would end the same.

AMAZON

BACK TO THE PAST

From Highbridge, Bronx, where pain turns poetic and love feels like war. I make music for the ones who talk to themselves just to stay sane, split personalities, ADHD thoughts, trauma memories that still echo like church bells in the dark. My songs ain’t for attention, they’re confessions. Every hook’s a scar, every verse’s a flashback.

I sing like I’m fighting my own reflection, half angel, half demon, tryna find peace between ‘em. Word to my mother, this ain’t no image, it’s survival turned into sound. If you ever loved too hard or lost yourself trying to heal somebody else… welcome home.

#SimTuh #LoveIsACurse #DarkBronxRock #Wordtomymother
#splitpersonality #ADHD #NoFunnay #trauma #heartbreak #autism

BACK TO THE PAST

Sim Tuh

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