excellent stuff, great vocals... (a bit like the bollock brother vibe in electronic)

The noise rises up

Drink the Lava from the Lamp

sharing this cover from a local malagasy artist. this is a jam session with a friend on vocals at the farm, 
forgive my piano mistakes 

Cover Lalatiana | by Rina.& friend

SUN IS LOW
-------------
Wind cries lonely 
across the snow
Sky is frozen,
sun is low
Ice cold dust dry as sand,
whip the ground upon this land

Never day, never night
All that I see... turn to white

Freezing,
time move slow,
back to fence.
I'll go where the white doves go

Winter,
please hide my way.
Cross the plain,
the hills and far away


Wolves that gathered,
have watched each move
Teeth are showing,
tails held low.
Hungry eyes with patience view,
In this domain their reign is true

Infinite march, likely in vain
Tracks cross the plain... turns to a chain

Freezing,
time move slow,
back to fence.
I'll go where the white doves go
where they go
in the night
they take flight
soaring to sky
so high and free
just like me
Always heading for their home
just like me

Sun is low

I wrote the flute part for a friend. In this case it is played with midi.  The harp is played with a little celtic harp.

Dream on

The Million Star Hotel  (Rehearsal)

01 - the threat of asjkenazische zionism

'interyou'd'

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DJpT3wlyg3N/?igsh=MTZ0MGFoeDhqMHA4ZA==

note: another shitty live phone recording

Let's make this house a home,
for I'll want you until I'm gone.
Just, please, don't leave this place
before me, as I couldn't take bein' alone.
Without you.

interyou'd

More Signals

I continue my musical experiments mixing styles. With this track , I tried to capture the spirit of post-punk rock but with an electro funk touch.  For the text, I let myself be carried away by my irritation against the warrior spirit that is imposed almost everywhere in the world. The lyrics are explicit

Je continue mes expérimentations musicales en mélangeant les styles. Avec ce morceau j'ai tenté de capter l'esprit post-punk Rock mais avec un touche electro funk.Pour le texte, je me suis laissée porter par mon énervement contre l'esprit guerrier qui s'imposent un peu partout dans le monde. Les paroles sont explicites


Punks Against War

All these stupid guys, thinking with their balls
Listen to  politicians and believe their  lies
Hey  You  asshole /   I don't want  take this way  
Hey  You  asshole  /  i'm going my own way  
 
There is no clean war, too many people die
No land, no country  worth the blood / of the child  who play there
 Hey  You  asshole /   I don't want take this way
Hey  You  asshole  /  i'm going my own way 

I am right in my fight/ shut the fuck up, son of a bitch,  
I protect my country and the world  shut the fuck up, son of a bitch,
My people are the chosen of gods  shut the fuck up, son of a bitch,
My enemies are terrorist dogs    shut the fuck up, son of a bitch,

There Are only two sides, Its not the good against the bad
 But Only those who die and those who get rich.  
 Hey  You  asshole /   I don't want  take this way
 Hey  You  asshole  /  i'm going my own way 


The vile flow of news channels makes me sick, makes me vomit
 Fed up with all these people who kill the future  they   makes me sick makes me vomit




En français:

Tous ces types stupides, qui pensent avec leurs couilles
Écoutent les politiciens et croient leurs mensonges
Hé, espèce de connard  Je ne veux pas prendre ce chemin
Hé, espèce de connard  Je vais mon propre chemin


Il n'y a pas de guerre propre, trop de gens meurent
Aucune terre, aucun pays ne vaut le sang Des enfants qui y jouent
Hé, espèce de connard Je ne veux pas prendre ce chemin
Hé, espèce de connard Je vais mon propre chemin

J'ai raison dans mon combat / ferme ta gueule, fils de pute
Je protège mon pays et le monde ferme ta gueule, fils de pute
Mon peuple est l'élu des dieux, ferme ta gueule, fils de pute
Mes ennemis sont des chiens terroristes, ferme ta gueule, fils de pute

Il n'y a que deux camps, Ce n'est pas le Bien contre le mal
Mais seulement ceux qui meurent et ceux qui s'enrichissent.
Hé, espèce d'enfoiré Je ne veux pas prendre ce chemin.
Hé, espèce d'enfoiré  Je vais mon propre chemin.

Le flux ignoble des chaînes d'information me rend malade, me fait vomir.
J'en ai marre de tous ces gens qui tuent l'avenir. Ils me rendent malade, me font vomir.

Drink the Lava from the Lamp

SLIMECOPjr

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