Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:
Revenge is for dreams, never reality
Humming from the window, or is that just me?
Here and existing
Existence, the dream of a god wracked with ennui

Refuse to be comforted
with conscription or mosque or desired holocaust
Kangaroos lack individuality
not me

With the grief I've gathered up in my arms
See the face of Laocöon and his two sons come to harm
Crushed by the snake for threatening to interfere
Sometimes the rivers shake 
Sometimes the skies are clear

Sometimes the fire burns, dry and plain
Sometimes the wood is cool and wet with rain
Suffer the heat like a cat on the three hottest days
of midsummer,
go back to the river
Though there may be a maze along the way

Curse and throw spit into the fire
Cast out the bad souls left in me
Apparitions are just cedar trees in the dark
Though the thought refuses to expire
Though I take this expensive piece of language with me

With everything to have and everything to give
Evidence for the coming universal wish not to live
The Hand reaches down to cradle and caress
The peace of mind of duress and unrest

The scent of a sweet song is on the midsummer air
The false and unjust with talons that tear
But the snare of the struggle 
       of the dream is ennui
Is the humming from the window?
        or is that just me?
                   July 26, 2024

Kangaroo Kourt

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:
Bird within a bird
Dream within a dream
Taking off with madness
perks the silver stream

They will never find me 
inside of this dream
Unfreeze upon the border
where I make myself lean

Bird becomes bird
Dream becomes dream
Compartmental thinking
flushed with the effort of a seam
          Dreamed Feb. 22, 2025

Bird Within A Bird

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:
All the way in the past
I failed to raise the phantasm appetite
For the sweet spark specks
left on the pink of the leopard's gums
Here's a name, belongs on a desk
Here's eyes, belong on reruns

I was promised cold laughs and lunch
Victuals preserving the sour strengthening old
Bones found in the concrete, Human? Animal? Dog?
The knowledge for soul soothing succor
Writing messages in the sand dunes for my successor

Lives are made of asking names
Repair the speaking part of me
The jutting gun mount not reeking of gun soil
or anything

Cold highway
Anticipate the vanity
All human efforts have awaiting
Line patterns in the dark, following

Disastrous apparel
Breath through stitching, high nested squirrel
Patient and perceiving
The world's weight on the back of a turtle
I will screen daylight upon awaking
Camera obscura tells the story
that starts me shaking

Devouring roots, tree bark, grass of the plain
Sicken and die rather than surrender to disdain
Conjure the future through an obsidian mirror
See role dwindling down to the secular
Breastbone bears an inscription
indecipherable to the scholars

This fish's flesh will no longer do
No more nights spent in the canoe
Sunlight glints off seiche and capillary
Remission of the correspondent missionary
Grey feels the need to part
inadvertently revealing an ocean of schemes
What foul dust floated in the wake 
of his dreams?
May 28, 2025


Cold Highway

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:
Everybody thinks like me
They've written and spoken my words
relentlessly

Heads hiding behind windows
Hiding in plain sight
Down eaves of windowsills
Feet in rocks, anthracite

Auto apartment structures
They build themselves
All the time
No necessity, no reason, no rhyme

Chipped in winter
Line drawings of the words
Freezing the moment sweet
Capturing things you've never seen

You know you should stay
Strangers leave such obvious
clues along the way

Heart has made sense
Voted least likely to succeed
at any expense

The day I exceed
Take the dry rot and blooms out
that we will not need
April 10, 2025

Least Likely To Succeed

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:
We will be different like all the rest
A body to call my own
Nothing belongs, there is no property
Coming and going alone

We were supposed to be - Animal life
They all look like me - Animal life
The motion of thought is most similar
stimulant
Time and clothes are a construct
simulant

Water springs from the ground
We all find it, we all drink of it
We all taste it, pass the cup around

Someone passed through the backyard
Someone unknown
With heavy culture
With no home
Nothing belongs, there is no property
Coming or going weeakly aloane

Fruit on the branches - Animal life
Taking no chances - Animal life
The last story to be passed down
was forgotten, it stopped being said
Life springs all around, Death of the dead
July 24, 2025

Animal Life

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:
Laid out over an endless flat plain of white sand
Comfortable bleaching in the naked Sun
Lean-to's covered with tattered cloth close by
Safety in arms from which you cannot pry

No fever here
Dressing hold tight upon the wounds
There isn't a single square inch to clean
No refuse to collect
no steam, no dunes

Discussion holds no value
Traps are welcomed and sought
My surrounding core is this desolate and hot
A life made to be extant
No thought thrown to future or past
Missing desires and prophecies
to declare or recant

This model has all the gears of a clock
Frame of wire suspending rock
Made as a diagram for young minds
to learn and dissect
The basis of which is incorrect

I haven't been into anything else
Have not been approached by the workings of a similar core
How these nights are all Sun
Encroached by the beautiful poignantly sore
How these comforts I tease are
oblivion of war

I'm etching a new model in this flat taste
The warmth of those arms
with need, shame, necessity 
with greedy intent
I have disgraced

Forgive me this trespass
this torrential waste
July 5, 2025

Orrery

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:

I must have some weight
I must have some wind
To hold me down

Waving from Purgatory
The content of my soul
Let me go

I heard you had grief 
I heard you had relief
Let me carry it home

Nothing defeats a happy home
Nothing defeats me all alone

Waving from Purgatory
The content of my soul
Let me go

I must have the moon
I must have the sun
To hold me down

Nothing defeats a happy home
Nothing defeats me all alone
I hear you had relief
Let me carry it home
March 17, 2025


Waving From Purgatory

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan
 Lyrics:
Band despised
or outright
Harmony in molars lied
Despite rolling motors on the home
Remaining obviance on the roam
Howard road skates like ice
Ours was a simian vice
Like lo-tecs living off rice
Sole bared this tiled piece
The soil buried the deceased
Poor animal
Awakens outside
This is his tomb and his grave, his rising tide
The populace ride
Overdressed and under weighed
Fan blood that is saved
Fan vote Jobraic
Outdoes his life
Mute media heats a knife
To saith:
"Go thou beneath me, little and afraid
Away in some dark corner to stay"
He is a hunter, not a spy
One shadow he pulls under
Poor animal, he cannot fight
There once was a widdle
who goes there for our war
Only my serpent eye
which rolled when hit the floor
Saddle recognition
Like pool like bike
Our service for this peace
Like servants all diseased
Mock of the Mandrill
Hawk of the hand - will
Wait for the stick to be thrown 
and then go after it alone
A search recommended by name
and algorithm locked
Poor animal
that is tamed
then unlocked
Oct. 29, 2025

Poor Animal

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan
Art by Kyle Bolan

Lyrics:
Singers in
November dawn
Board drought forever stolen pawn
Here's a steady rhythm
Banging out over muscle
On long garden
Lawn length epistle
Evening a strike
Orange from horizontal glow
Gregorian hymn
Hers heard in an ear she doesn't know
He will stand there and wait
I am yesterday
I am cassette tape
Warmer working this muscle that is tight
Blind stories tell
of a blind night
or of the smallest glimmer
that escapes all others' sight

I am Summer/Winter
Vernal/Autumnal
You are November
Equinoctial
Nov. 18, 2025

November Solstice

Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Kyle Bolan

An instrumental version of the well known song.

Instrumental Orrery

#StartTheNextWave - New Wave. Post Punk. Art Pop Experimentor. New songs always in the works. Stay tuned.

New tracks tagged ##startthenextwave