killer Beats 1

etheral forest half is good trails off drift away

Confused AI

Take a walk on the wild side, it’s been a wild ride 
In the last three years I been to hell and back like three times
I sat and pouted for so long that alfalfa has done sprouted out the top of my head where it’s feeling crowded with thoughts and bouts with depression
There’s no doubt that it’s stemming,
from the mouth of the demons saying I should be confessing
That it’s all my fault why I fall to these stresses
fall back to the same vices when shit get pressin
climbing out the hole is mighty hard when you get tested 
Sure I speak for all the homies when I say I’ve learned my lesson
But these worn walls.. they so slippery, 
Like a bad ex, they stripping me of my liberty 
oh misery my, misery me, I miss being me 
I’m just the remnants of a crab that’s been shaken by the beak 
I’m the shadow of a boy who used to smile every week
The outline of a degenerate, outcast and freak

co_op

Something a bit diff. Random Idea (As usual) 

The guitar would have sounded better if I just recorded it in one - but had to loop it as lost my headphones so could only record using my iPhone microphone. Also - maybe it would be better a bit quicker? Live is better I reckkkkinnnn xoxo

i wanna stay!!!! (rough idea)

Method: Overdubbing to create that folksy ballad feel - in an eerie way
Narration: On the popular side of my romanticism (and my skills in pastiche text composition), this is a MORITAT - a warning song played by travelling minstrels or BÄNKELSÄNGER, somewhat like a murder ballad. A young girl (Lottchen) is seduced by a passing band of strangers, flees with them and later returns pregnant. In detail: A remote family farmstead in the early 19th century. In the first verse, the travellers try to impress the children, in the second verse they try to impress the elderly. They hope to trigger longing and yearning for far away landscapes - which does not work in both cases. In the third verse, they trade vain promises among themselves. There is one thing they are experienced in, though: feasting and telling tall stories. In the fourth verse, the father warns and threatens to send for the constable. In the fifth verse, the mother warns young Lottchen that "only what's loose drifts with the wind". In the sixth verse Lottchen has vanished along with the journeypeople and her loss is mourned. In the last verse, Lottchen returns with child.
Note: I tried to make the cover as tacky as .... welll .... others .....

Lyrics / copyright jo richter
(as published in 'chi' under the title 'los'):

den kindern erzählen sie von den bergen,
von hohen gipfeln in stein.
die kinder lächeln schüchtern:
wer will denn so einsam sein?


vor den alten prahlen sie lauthals mit der
weite des meeres, der see.
die alten grummeln mürrisch:
ihre schale fasst nur noch tee.
  

sich selbst geben sie große versprechen,
doch halten diese nie ein.
dafür wissen sie zu zechen
und fröhlich beisammen zu sein.


das sind, sagt der vater, alles bloß gauckler,
sänger und reisendes pack,
gewürm aus dem schoß von dieben:
die holt der gendarm bald ab.


die mutter schaut zu, schweigt und setzt sich
neben das lottchen, ihr kind.
bleib sitzen, lottchen, bleib sitzen:
nur loses treibt mit dem wind.
 

im frühdichten nebel des morgens, ach,
ist keine spur mehr zu sehn:
ach lottchen, mein herzliebchen,
was musstest du mit ihnen gehn?


die drehleier summt, die drehorgel walzert,
das lottchen kommt wieder heim.
 lieb hergott hilf, sie trägt ein kind,
das lottchen kommt nicht allein.

lieb lottchen

Lieb Lottchen

Form

Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding Stimulating, Mind Expanding

Stimulating, Mind Expanding - Instrumental

Grewat Machine

Great Machine

HARD TO TURN
FACES
WIND BLOWS
AND MOVES SMILES
TO DEFAULT ACTION
OF A FULL FASTING
BLASTING THE INTERNALS
THE LAST OF LASTING
HALF HUMAN
A BASTION
OF THE LAST BEING
IN THE VAST
OF THE UNSEEN
UNSEEING SO SORE
FROM THE RIFT
AS THE EYES OPEN
A SOCIAL BLAME
IN A GAME PLAYED
FOR DAYS LEFT OUT
TO DRY
LIKE TANNING HIDES
NON LINKED LIES
COULD EVER DISGUISE
A LIFE IMPLIED
GLAZING OVER BROKEN VIEWS
SO CONFUSED
AS THE AIR ESCAPE
AND THE WORDS SPOKEN
WHAT THE FUCK
ENTERS ATMOSPHERE LIKE AREOSOLS
WRITTING ON THE WALLS
LIKE BARING SOULS
AND I'M STILL NOW
CREATING IN MY VACUME
I STACKED JEWELS
LIKE CD WITH CASES
SO SEE THESE
WRAPPED LIKE FAST FOOD
DISCARDED ALL
 OVER THE PLACE WITH
ABANDON OF THAT
THAT FUELS
DISPLACED KIDS
FOR THE WORLD TO CONSUME
AS A OPPOSSED
TO THOUGHTS
IN TIME
I'D RISEN AND ROSE
A THOUSAND MINDS
LIKE FLOWERS ON BATTLEFIELDS
NOURISHED FROM THE FALLENS SPINES
THAT SMASHED AND BROKE
AND THEN ELOPED
WITH THE EARTH
BARE FEET 
THE TURF BLESS
WHEN I'M STRESSED 
WITHOUT PURPOSE
LET THE GRASS 
FURNISH SOLES
CALLOUSED TOES
MANAGE A FURLONG
WITH A BIRD SONG
DISTANCE TRAVELS 
THIS MAN HILL
LAST STANDING OF AN OUTOPOST
HALF NAKED I'M BASKIN
MASKIN THE TAN
LIKE ROOM PAINTING
TOO HOT AND I'M DAMMED
IF I'M HALF FEIGNING
A QUESTION
I FEEL EACH DAY
LIKE WRINKLES IT'S ETCHED IN
ASKING THE PAST
TO FIND THE ROCK
AND A BIT OF WOOD TO ELEVATE
THE TANGLED MIND
WITH ANGLES
LOST MY SOUL
LIKE I'VE JUST GOT STRAPS
 FOR SANDALS
TIMES A VANDAL
TASKED WITH FUTURE LEVERAGE
DON'T LEAVE IT UP TO CHANCE
LIKE FINGER GRIP
ON THE EDGE OF A PRECIPICE
WHAT IS THIS
THAT CATCHES MY EYE
THE PAINT THAT RUNS DRY
THE PATH
A DISMISSED MEASUREMENT
OF DEPTH
FROM WHERE THEY FELL
MISSED A BIT
DON'T FILL THE OUTLINES
HEAVY 
FOR DRIP MARKS
EVIDENT
LIKE LINES ON WALLS
FOR THOSE WHO FALL
AND STAYED TOO LONG
FROM FUMES
A HIGH THEY ENDED ON
LIT BY NIGHT
FROM LOCAL TENEMANTS
THEY FILLED
FOR NORMAL PEOPLE
NEVER QUITE YOUR GENTLEMEN
LIKE KINGS KILLED
IN UNREST
THE LANDS EQUAL
HIGHLIGHTED IN LETTERS
TEN FOOT TALL
SENTINALS
IMPLANTING STATES OF SYSTEM
TO ARMOUR WISDOM
ISN'T
AN INVITATION VIOLENCE
JUST SILENCE TO LISTEN
AND BIDE TIME
FOR THE RIGHT TIME
TO BE HITTING
THAT'LL MAKE MINDS
TRANSFORM
LIKE BATTLE CATS FROM KITTENS
SMITTEN SITTING WRITTEN
WORDS PISSING OPEN FIRE
WASTED MISIING TARGETS
CROSS HAIRS 
LIKE A SHIT CUT FOR YA BARNETT
SO YA PULLING HATS
AND HOODIE UP
 NEVER HIDE YA LUCK
COULD CHANGE THE TIMES
LIKE MINDS 
MADE UP

M A X I N'

Sir Name

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johnny no one

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