Seems I'm forever the armchair detective
the one who checks the pulse of a corpse
the guy who Figured It Out When Everyone Else Already Knew

forever got egg on my face
look out the window when the action kicks off
the guy going round in circles
when the cats out the bag

why did you see me as a second responder
the hero half dressed gets the call while crawling into bed

[chorus]
its not fair
its not right
and if I knew how to do math
it would be over for your ass

can't be who you call 
when you don't have my number
or lowering the stakes
can't make a name

[chorus]
no, no, no, no, no
its not fair
its not right
and if I knew how to do math
it would be over for your ass

so i guess I've got the dunce cap 
guess ill take the short bus
forever known as the guy who Figured It Out When Everyone Else Already Knew

why does everyone think i'm dumb
why you think i'm slow
how can i react to past tense phrases with you already holding the cheat sheet

[chorus]
its not fair
its not right
and if I knew how to do math
it would be over for your ass

I Figured It Out When Everyone Else Already Knew
guess I'll just be forever second place
compared
comparison to the lead
the second fiddle


I Figured It Out When Everyone Else Already Knew

its in the corner of your eye
in the depths of your mind

(ohhhhhummmmm)
(ohhhhhummmmm)

little by little how it melts away 
first the senses 
then the muscles in your brain
next your hearing words in the wind

(ohhhhhummmmm)

no one said growing up was easy

(ohhhhhummmmm)

[chorus]
soaring, going up like,  little paper planes
riding the wind with your hand on a car ride with a friend
screaming over hills as your stomach flips over on decent
childhood memories kicking rocks and weeping laments

(ohhhhhummmmm)
(ohhhhhummmmm)

but-i-wanna fight-this-ohhhhh-this
i-wanna fight-for-ussss-uzzzz-uzzzzz

(ohhhhhummmmm)
(ohhhhhummmmm)

black and blue my heart it melts
tracing a line
to find mediocre treasure'd men
black and blue my heart if swells
cracking my knuckles
i know this song so well

but-i-wanna fight-this-ohhhhh-this
i-wanna fight-for-ussss-uzzzz-uzzzzz

(ohhhhhummmmm)
(ohhhhhummmmm)

[chorus]
soaring, going up like,  little paper planes
riding the wind with your hand on a car ride with a friend
screaming over hills as your stomach flips over on decent
childhood memories kicking rocks and weeping laments

i-wanna fight-this-ohhhhh-this
i-wanna fight-for-ussss-uzzzz-uzzzzz

i-wanna fight-this-ohhhhh-this
i-wanna fight-for-ussss-uzzzz-uzzzzz

No one said.
no one said

Little Paper Planes

these pages are blank
these words are unwritten
a story is inside me but i can't bring myself to begin it

each paragraph 
syntax and structure
the words are there 
the tip of my tongue
but its asking me all the wrong questions

autobiography
about my worst memories
a tidal of uncertainty
caught in a storm
backed with broken melody

I'd take a year of nothing
I'd swallow lightning if it brought out something
a year of rain, let it drown me
a year of pain let it guide me

ah 
ah
ahhh


ah
ah 
ahhh

oxford commas
and questions
hunted by repeat words and 
bland introspection
a bush is a bush but it could be more
flourishing green textures galore

but I just see nothing

I see too much

I want to start 
but the page is blank and its
starting to mock

syntax and structure
the words are there 
characters and feeling 
all i do is share
like liltting moments and fleeting pauses
i'm using too much thought

I'd take a year of searching
I'd swallow lightning if it brought this out of me
a year of rain, let it drown me
a year of pain 
something
anything to ground me

ah
ah
ahhhh
ah
ah
ahhhhh

posers posing and the world is still turning
the ink is not flowing, like i was hoping
the weight of a ocean sitting on my forehead

I'd take a year sat in the thick of it
I'd roadtrip and solve a mystry
Procrasinating
scathing and breaking
myself down with

syntax and sentences

the pages are blank
the words are unwritten
a story is inside me but i can't bring myself to lift it

A Year Of Rain

Picking at my eyes
picking at my bones
they swoop in and clean 
guess I didn't hit my markers

I should stay on the path
can't deviate, don't touch the grass
guess i should know my lane
flop my landing
back to stacking shelves

swoop swoop
vultures watching
always monitoring

its why i don't do stages
I'll trip and i know 
its ltheir familiar call
the sinking feeling in my gut
nothing but the whoa (oh, Oh)
the gaze from eyes fall
the curtain close
and the picking of my bones

but if i could i would like to protect you from them..

[chorus]
I, would catch you 
I, would have you
land on me
I can take the fall it seems
I, would have you
know that in my arms your
safe
a harbour for none
but my love you're the 
one

sand in my nails
the hours flail 
your horrored face 
as we relent to the weight of gravitys belt
and i wish i could protect
I wish i could help you rest

but if i could protect you from them..

[chorus]
I, would catch you 
I, would have you
land on me
I can take the fall it seems
I, would have you
know that in my arms your
safe
a harbour for none
but my love you're the 
one

breathe
(in out in out in out) BREATHE
(in out in out in out) breathe (you're safe)
(in out in out in out) BREATHE
(in out in out in out)  (you're safe)
(huh)
(huh)
(huh)

I, would
I, would
but i can't stop the sinking feeling
burrowing in my gut
I can't stop the healing
process resting on bones
I can't
I, can't


...

...

I, can't.... protect you^
...
...
I, can't......

Vultures

yeah yeah
cook me up
cook me up (cook me up)
get rubbing my belly
serve it up 
serve it up!

...
...

serve it up 
serve it up!

...
...

Get me in the kitchen
and whip me up something
got a sweet tooth
get your mouth on me

(mix it)
(Mix it)
(ha ha, mix it, mix it up)

serve it up 
serve it up!

oh me oh my
i'm in a pickle
you're looking like i'm a crumble, call me cookie
pulling at these wrappers
my threads be looking knackard


(bass it)
(shake me)
(taste me)

"pre heat the oven and roast"

yeah yeah
.
cook me up
cook me up (cook me up)
.
get rubbing my belly
serve it up 
serve it up!

oh my oh my
i'm in a pickle
got me laying in your juices
ready for another pumping
..

...

take a bite

...
...


i'm no chicken i'm here for the dinner
i've no beef got it squashed like a winner
No fish smell, I'm fresh for the picking
no additives all natural 

juices
...

(juices)


om-nom-nom-nom!



yeah yeah
.
cook me up
cook me up (cook me up)
.
get rubbing my belly
serve it up 
serve it up!

yeah yeah
.
cook me up
cook me up (cook me up)
.
get rubbing my belly
serve it up 
serve it up!
..



wing or thigh
take your pick and pick my bone
lick it up
lick it good!

..

cook me up
cook me up (cook me up)
.
get rubbing my belly
serve it up 
serve it up!

yeah yeah
.
cook me up
cook me up (cook me up)
.
get rubbing my belly
serve it up 
serve it up!

(ya ya)



om-nom-nom-nom!


Cook Me Up!

Blunt Paper

Paper Bag Horizon

Bálint János Kiss Onomatopoeia and the Post-Industrial Soundscape
paper
Wednesday, 24 Sept, 2025 at 12.00
Cukrarna, conference room


Bálint János Kiss: Onomatopoeia and the Post-Industrial Soundscape

Joanna Patrycja Wyrwa: “When the unspeakable is brought to light …” 
paper
Wednesday, 24 Sept, 2025 at 14.00
Cukrarna, conference room


Joanna Patrycja Wyrwa: "When the unspeakable is brought to light"

Darko Fritz: H2O Interface 
paper
Friday, 26 Sept, 2025 11.30
City Museum of Ljubljana, Projection hall


Darko Fritz: H2O Interface

In this short episode, we take you inside the world of paper and film innovation with an overview of The Griff Network, a leading manufacturer and converter specializing in advanced silicone release liners. Discover how precision coating, material science, and sustainable engineering come together to create products that power industries—from medical to labels to composites. Whether you’re in product development or supply chain, this episode reveals the unseen role release liners play in modern manufacturing and how The Griff Network is setting new standards in performance and reliability.

Releasing Innovation: The Griff Network Overview

What happens when silicone coatings don’t adhere as expected? In this episode, we explore the critical issue of silicone anchorage failure and how rigorous quality control processes prevent it. Join The Griff Network’s technical experts as they discuss the science behind silicone adhesion, common causes of release failure, and the testing methods that ensure consistent liner performance. Whether you’re in product development, coating operations, or quality assurance, this episode offers valuable insights into maintaining reliability, performance, and customer trust in every roll.

Understanding Silicone Anchorage and Quality

In this episode, we break down the pros and cons of two essential release liner materials—paper and PET film. Join The Griff Network’s material experts as they compare strength, flexibility, sustainability, and cost across both substrates. Learn how application requirements, processing conditions, and end-use environments determine which option delivers the best balance of performance and value. Whether you’re designing for durability or seeking eco-friendly alternatives, this conversation helps you make informed choices when it comes to paper versus PET.

Paper vs. PET: Choosing the Right Foundation for Performance

JACKSON AND PAPER

Lyrics:

Pt. Rubenmachtsachen:

Wenn's um dich geht würd ich killen
mir egal lass uns einfach kippen rauchen chillen
scheiß auf Arbeit scheiß auf Job
hunderttausend Gedanken in denen ich gefangen bin rennen durch mein Kopf
ich will hier weg doch irgendwie auch nicht 
fick die Politik das Establishment
eure werte austauschbar und fake
eure Welt aus Plastik meine mit Asphalt überzogen und echt
steinhartes herz eiskalter Winter
viel zu viele Kopfficks 

Hook:

schmeiß eine Molly in die Bank
schönes buntes Paper brennt
zünd es an zünd es an

Pt. Autarc:

Schmeiße die Molly weit weg, ich war schon wieder Leś, zu viele Drugs in den Pockets versteckt, Von der Oxy wird schlecht, alles toxisch, so wie ein Frosch, ich bin hoffentlich noch nicht Verreckt 

Ich bin mir dabei nicht mehr ganz so sicher 
Seit meinem letzten Trip ist nichts mehr so wie immer, Ich merk es wird schlimmer, nichts ist mehr so Safe Aber das sterben ist immerhin  sicher

Entleere den Blister, in dem Kerzenschimmer, mein Herz ist am flimmern, doch ich verberge es weil es mich merken lässt das ich mein Wert nicht schätz, ja es erklärt sich jetzt, das ich verhinder'

Was mich nur erinnert an als ich ein Kind war, 
Heute Da Lern ich schlecht, weil sich nichts merken lässt, wisch meine Fährte Weg so wie im Winter der Schnee der zur Erde Fällt und bedeckt was einst der Sinn war 

ich mache Bilder zu Versen und schreibe die Verse so dass Sie ein Bild sah 
Ich schreibe mehr als ein Dichter es Schmerzt in meinen Fingern, doch werde nicht wie Schiller weil ich nach dem Wind jag 

So wie ein Kinnhaken, stellen sich Sinn fragen, und das noch in Tagen, welche keinen Sinn haben so wie ein Blinddarm


Paper brennt (prod. Autarc)

decided to drop this since i havent dropped in a LONG time
last part rlly rushed be light on me!

art by @cjorsumlikethat

"here’s your song, i hope you’re happy" @nubb #jerseyclub

A soul-drenched country ballad about the way thin little pages can decide everything—divorce papers, bank letters, wills, contracts, even the song itself. “Just Paper” lives where money, memory, faith, and heartbreak all meet in black ink on white. Slow-burning verses, a huge, roaring chorus, and a gritty, human vocal that lets every crack show.

Just Paper

we Gonj

imma do sum bout it// dwerk
full name: nubsendinpicstoyourgirlandthentwerkingonthebeatepicstylejerkbeat

CYBER CHORD writes songs the way a porch light holds a night: small, steady, and impossible to ignore. I work with AI as a true co-writer, then carve the lyric by hand and shape the track in Suno. The sound leans bare and human—country roots in the soil, a little rock grain in the teeth, and a faith-lit lift that chooses hope without preaching.

These are ordinary-room hymns: rings hidden in cotton, receipt-tape strings, a dress behind rain glass, a sink that cools while you find the words. Silence is an instrument here; sometimes there’s a full bar where the house gets to breathe. If a line can’t survive a campfire and a cracked mug, it doesn’t make the song.

If you’re new, start with the heartbreakers. They don’t shout. They stay. I believe in the holiness of the everyday, and in the quiet bravery of saying the thing before “later” takes it away.

No paid promo, no playlist buys, no cover-art pitches, no dance offers, no cold DMs. If it’s a pitch, the porch light’s off. If you’re a real listener, come in soft: pick one song, leave a genuine note (lyric or timestamp welcome), and hand it to one friend. That’s how this fire stays lit.

May your road stay open, your coffee stay warm, and your day be peaceful.

Music choose me I never wanted this road.. Turn pain into art 🖼️

Contact us: saintmischiefmusic@gmail.com

Liminalis - out now

also known as threshold - the space between, like life and death, start and end, the energy that propels  a cycles in and out of each of us.

Threshold but made like Saint Mischief style - blending lo-fi, high energy, introspection and reflection on errors and relations.

enjoy!

danger deedle dirtl doo... doodaah doodaah

New tracks tagged #Paper