“Back Then in My Body” is a raw, introspective song about the weight we carry long before we understand it.
It explores the idea that the body remembers truths we try to ignore — old pressure, unspoken words, swallowed emotions, and moments we pushed away to keep going.

On the surface, life seemed functional.
Routine. Normal.
But inside, something had been storing every impact, every silence, every moment that hurt but was never named.
The body held it all quietly, patiently — until the day it could no longer stay silent.

The song travels deep into that realization:
that the patterns we live today were shaped years earlier, far beneath the level of thought.
Not in the mind, but in that inner place where honesty can’t be avoided.

The chorus hits with emotional force, revealing the truth:
everything began back then — long before the symptoms showed, long before the admission came.
It’s not about blame.
It’s about understanding where the misalignment truly started.

By the end, the song reaches a moment of stark clarity:
the body has always known the story.
And healing begins not with perfection, but with admitting what has been carried for too long.

“Back Then in My Body” is an honest confession set to modern rock —
a turning point wrapped in sound,
and the beginning of a new kind of truth.

Back then in my Body

“The Old Code” is a song about the invisible scripts that shape our reactions long before we understand them.
It’s about the rules we learned in childhood, the patterns we copied to survive, and the emotional reflexes that stayed with us long after they stopped serving us.
In this track, the narrator realizes that his body still follows an outdated program — a set of internal commands like stay quiet, endure, swallow it down, be strong, say nothing.
They once protected him.
Now they confine him.

The song unfolds like an internal dialogue:
Why do old emotions still flare up?
Why does the body react before the mind?
And why do behaviors from the past continue to run, even when life has changed?

The chorus hits with the core truth:
the old code is still active, still burning, but it no longer belongs to the man he is today.
Instead of blaming himself, he chooses honesty:
to see the code clearly, to recognize its patterns, to admit that it no longer fits.

The final conclusion is not resolution — it’s awakening.
A conscious decision to stop running on an inherited program and begin writing something new, even without knowing the next line yet.

“The Old Code” is a raw, modern rock confession about the courage it takes
to outgrow your own past.

The Old Code

“Back Against the Wall” is a dark, emotional rock piece that dives deep into the moment when the body freezes before the mind understands why.

It’s a song about patterns — old survival strategies — that still lock the system in place, even when life has changed.
The narrator finds himself stuck again, unable to move forward or backward.
There’s no dramatic collapse, no explosion — just a crushing pressure inside the chest, an internal shutdown that feels like hitting a wall you can’t see but deeply feel.

The verses describe the physical truth of trauma patterns:
muscles collapsing, breath shrinking, the body going soft while the soul turns rigid.
It’s not weakness — it’s protection learned long ago.

The chorus opens with full emotional intensity, admitting the hard truth:
the block isn’t outside — it’s inside.
It’s an old structure, an old reflex, an old rule that once kept him safe but now holds him still.

The bridge shifts from panic to clarity:
he doesn’t need to fight or run —
he needs to recognize.
To stand, breathe, and understand the origin of the wall instead of trying to escape from it.

By the final chorus, a small but crucial shift appears:
a crack.
Not enough to break through yet,
but enough to show that this wall isn’t permanent.

“Back Against the Wall” is an honest, heavy, and deeply human moment of awareness —
a song about seeing the pattern, feeling the pressure, and beginning the long process of freeing yourself from it.

Back Against the Wall

“Swallowed Down” is one of the rawest and most physical songs on the album.
It confronts the lifelong habit of swallowing emotions instead of expressing them — the anger, fear, shame, expectations, loneliness, and all the words that were never spoken but buried deep inside the body.

The song frames emotional suppression as something the body remembers long after the mind has moved on.
Every swallowed moment becomes weight.
Every forced silence becomes tension.
Every “I’m fine” becomes a layer the body carries until it can’t hold it anymore.

The verses describe how these stored experiences rise back up, not as thoughts, but as physical sensations — proof that nothing truly disappears just because it was pushed down.
The chorus hits with painful honesty:
He has swallowed things that were never his to carry.
And now they sit inside him, shaping how he feels, breathes, reacts, and lives.

The bridge is a confession:
for years, he acted as the “trash can” of his own history, absorbing everything, letting nothing out, believing that this was strength.
But the body kept the score — and eventually presented the bill.

By the final chorus, the song shifts from confession to decision.
He chooses to stop swallowing his life and start living it.
It won’t be easy.
It won’t be quick.
But it starts with the truth.

“Swallowed Down” is an emotional exhale —
a declaration that the cycle ends now.

Swallowed Down

Heart Attack

“The Wrong Enemy” is a song about the painful realization that the battles we fight on the outside often come from wounds on the inside.
It explores how easily we misinterpret tones, gestures, or words — not because others meant harm, but because something unresolved within us reacts first.

The narrator reflects on years of blaming the world around him: other people, their voices, their intentions.
But every time the noise faded, the same familiar ache returned — proof that the real source was internal.

The song reveals a powerful shift:
the enemy wasn’t the other person.
It was the leftover echo of old beliefs, early defenses, and emotional patterns built long before adulthood.
Patterns designed to protect —
but now standing in the way.

The chorus opens wide with emotional clarity, admitting that the true conflict isn’t between him and the outside world, but between him and his own inherited reflexes.

The bridge speaks quietly but sharply:
he has slammed doors where no walls existed, fought battles that never belonged to him, reacted to ghosts from the past rather than to the present moment.

By the final chorus, the insight becomes resolve:
the pattern can be broken,
the fight can be faced consciously,
and the blame no longer needs to be placed outward.

“The Wrong Enemy” is a moment of honesty —
a song about turning inward, owning the truth, and releasing the weight of misdirected battles.

The Wrong Enemy

“Mirror Image” is a gentle, emotional acoustic piece about the gap between how we see ourselves and how the people who love us see us.
It begins with a simple story — a friend looking in the mirror and seeing nothing good left — and how someone else proved them wrong.

That moment becomes a catalyst for the narrator’s own realization:
we often judge ourselves through old, distorted eyes.

The verses capture the vulnerability of standing in front of a mirror and truly looking, not with habit or dismissal, but with honesty.
What appears at first is uncertainty: a version of oneself shaped by old beliefs, old words, and old wounds.
Writing down what he sees becomes a small but significant act — a short, raw, painfully honest list.
But the turning point comes when someone who loves him is given the same task.
Their list is full — full of qualities he cannot yet feel in himself: strength, warmth, courage, kindness, heart.

The chorus opens into a wide emotional space:
their reflection shows a man larger, brighter, and more human than the one he sees in his own mirror.
The second verse explores the painful truth behind it:
we learn ourselves small,
while others often see us in the light.

His blind spot becomes clear — he measures himself by his scars, not by what has survived.
The final message is quiet but powerful:
the path to healing begins when we learn to look at ourselves with the same compassion, truth, and clarity that others already do.

“Mirror Image” is a soft awakening —
a reminder that sometimes, the truth of who we are lives in the eyes of those who love us,
until we are ready to see it ourselves.

Mirror Image

Part of Hospital Cuck Chair, EP released 2025

Admission

„Solange mein Herz weiß, wofür es schlägt“ – by Marco Memory**
Dieser Song ist ein Tagebucheintrag aus dem Innersten eines Mannes, der mitten im Schmerz steht – körperlich, seelisch, existenziell.

Marco Memory schreibt nicht über eine überwundene Krise, sondern aus dem Feuer heraus, während sich seine Krankheit schneller ausbreitet, als es irgendein Mensch ertragen sollte.
Es ist ein Lied über Nächte, die brennen.
Über Atemzüge, die weh tun.
Über Knochen, die brechen, und doch einen Willen, der nicht nachgibt.

Ein Lied darüber, wie ein Körper schwächer wird – und ein Herz gleichzeitig stärker.
Der Song erzählt von Angst, Müdigkeit und Ohnmacht, aber auch von einem Schwur, der nicht bricht: dem Versprechen, aufzustehen, so lange die Kraft reicht, und darüber hinaus.
Und er zeigt, was einen Menschen wirklich trägt:
die Bilder seiner Kinder, die Ziele, die noch vor ihm liegen, der Wunsch, ihnen Zukunft schenken zu dürfen.

Mit rauer Stimme, ruhigen Gitarren, tiefen Drums und intensiven spoken-word Momenten entsteht ein Stück, das weh tut –
aber Kraft gibt.

Ein Song für alle, die kämpfen.
Für alle, die jeden Tag neu entscheiden müssen, weiterzugehen.
Für alle, deren Herz weiß, wofür es schlägt.

Am Ende bleibt kein Pathos – nur ein Satz, der leuchtet wie ein letzter, aber unzerbrechlicher Funke:
„Ich bleib hier… solange mein Herz noch weiß, wofür es schlägt.“

So lange mein Herz weiß, wofür es schlägt

“Hormones” is a powerful, introspective modern rock track about the body’s automatic reactions — the biochemical echoes of old experiences that still shape how we feel today.
It’s a song about the invisible forces inside us: adrenaline, cortisol, oxytocin, dopamine — all the signals that once protected us, but now sometimes pull us back into emotional worlds that no longer exist.
The narrator describes how a single word, look, or tone can unleash a hormonal response that doesn’t match the present moment.
His body reacts as if danger were still here, even though his mind knows he’s no longer living in the past.
The chorus expands with emotional weight:
hormones can drag him down, make wounds louder, or freeze him in old reflexes — but they can also give strength, warmth, and hope.

The body isn’t just the place where trauma lives; it’s also the place where healing begins.
The second verse opens into softness, showing the other side of biology:
how being held releases warmth,
how success sparks lightness,
how a smile or a kind word can shift the entire emotional landscape.

The bridge delivers the central insight:
maybe it isn’t the world that triggers him —
maybe it’s an inner system still fighting a long-gone battle.
And the path forward is not fighting the body,
but teaching it what is true today.

By the final chorus, the message becomes clear:
hormones influence him, but they do not define him.
He is more than his pulse, more than his blood chemistry, more than his old fear.
He can learn to understand his body — and write new stories into it.

“Hormones” is an emotional conversation between a man and his own physiology —
a song about reclaiming control, compassion, and truth inside the very system that once overwhelmed him.

Hormones

Ich schreibe, was ich denke, fühle und erlebe. Schreiben hilft mir, Erinnerungen einzuordnen und ihnen Klarheit zu geben. Wenn Gefühle eine Melodie bekommen, entsteht etwas Wunderbares – eine Botschaft, die direkt ins Herz geht.

Für mich ist es ein Ausgleich, ein Stück Selbsttherapie. Die Texte sind ehrlich und frisch aus dem Herzen. Und wenn ich damit jemanden berühre, der genauso fühlt wie ich, freut es mich umso mehr.

Da ich selbst nicht gut singen kann, nutze ich KI für die Melodie und die Stimme. Ich bin dankbar für diese Möglichkeit, meinen Gefühlen Ausdruck zu verleihen.

Viel Freude beim Hören 🥰

Gruß, Marco Memory

PS: Ehrliche Kommentare sind willkommen – aber bitte keine Angebote, ich kaufe nichts.



I write what I think, feel, and experience. Writing helps me sort out memories and bring them clarity. When feelings find a melody, something wonderful is created – a message that speaks straight to the heart.

For me, it’s a balance, a bit of self-therapy. The lyrics are honest and straight from the heart. And if they touch someone who feels the same way I do, it makes me even happier.

Since I can’t sing well myself, I use AI for the melody and voice. I’m grateful for this opportunity to give my feelings a voice.

Enjoy listening 🥰

Best, Marco Memory

PS: Honest comments are always welcome – but please no offers, I’m not looking to buy anything.

Music for a flow state.

All music is performed at time of recording, captured live and minimally processed. This is a snapshot of creation at a moment in time

Saarcasticus.bandcamp.com

New tracks tagged #Heartbeat