Most people see a bug in the kitchen and go full horror movie: screaming, shoe-throwing, and spraying half a can of Raid. But what if… that tiny six-legged stranger is actually a hopeless romantic in a tuxedo-shell, humming a love song, on his way to a candlelit sugar-crystal dinner?

“Cute Bugs” is jangle pop meets indie rock meets post-punk whimsy — a track where ladybugs flirt like ballroom dancers, beetles straighten their shells like nervous prom dates, and even cockroaches get a verse of tender poetry. It’s surreal, it’s funny, and weirdly… it’s a little heartwarming too.

So next time a bug walks across your kitchen counter, don’t panic. Offer him a waltz, a crumb of bread, maybe even a sonnet. After all:
Cute bugs, hey hey — little hearts on six legs play. 🐞✨

Lyrics:

In the kitchen at night, little footsteps crawl,
Most would scream, throw a shoe at the wall.
But I see tiny eyes, shining brave and bright,
A gentleman bug, dressed up for the night.

He combs his feelers, he straightens his shell,
Humming a tune only bug hearts can tell.
Does he dream of roses, or sugar on a plate?
Or maybe a ladybug, waiting for a date?

Cute bugs, hey hey,
Little hearts on six legs play.
Cute bugs, hey hey,
Buzzing love won’t fly away. 

A scientist laughs, a poet takes a note,
Romantic women write them secret oaths.
Not monsters, no—just dancers so small,
With a waltz of wings in a ballroom hall.

They flirt with antennae, they bow with grace,
Tiny tuxedos in a moonlit place.
Do they write sonnets in crumbs of bread?
Or whisper goodnight when the daylight’s dead?

Cute bugs, hey hey,
Little hearts on six legs play.
Cute bugs, hey hey,
Buzzing love won’t fly away. 

Imagine their dreams, so tender, so sweet,
A candlelit dinner of spilled sugar treat.
Two beetles leaning close, wings brushed in time,
Love is love, in rhythm and rhyme.

Cute bugs, hey hey,
Little hearts on six legs play.
Cute bugs, hey hey,
Buzzing love won’t fly away. 

So next time a bugman walks in your view,
Remember he’s dreaming just like you do.
Not ugly, not scary, just living their song,
Cute bugs in the world, where we all belong.

Cute Bugs

Think of this as a caffeinated elegy: you, a sticky glass of cola, and the world’s longest ten-second existential crisis — played with jangly guitars, a sneer of post-punk, and a heart that forgot its lines. Perfect for mornings that feel like a badly timed replay and nights when you’re trying to remember why you left the house in the first place. 🥤⏰

If you like your melancholy with a rim of sugar and a chorus that hums like a clock stuck between shrug and breakdown, this one’s for you. Walk out of your flat, stand in the drizzle, pretend you’re in a noir film, and accidentally start a singalong nobody asked for.

Press play, sip something fizzy, and ask the important questions: will this moment matter, or will it just fizzle out like bad cola? If you like what you hear, tell someone — or don’t. We won’t name the napkin. 🎸✨

Lyrics:

It's 10:04, I checked the clock again
One hand moves while I remain
Empty chairs and silver spoons
Muted echoes in this quiet saloon
The tiles still smell of yesterday's bread
But no one's here, just me instead
An older woman gave this glass
Coca-Cola fizzing like the past
She vanished to the desk again
While I watched in like I might offend
Every tick is merciless
This hour won't stop to care, I guess
I'm the only soul at this morning show
Sip in silence, letting go

And I sip on my cola drink, let my thoughts sink
Why am I feeling sad and what is this life about? How to find out?
How to find out?
And I sip on my cola drink as the minutes blink
Will this moment matter or will it just burn out?
How to find out? How to find out?

The labels are in a foreign script
And I can't ask what I've just sipped
The floor is clean, the light is soft
Yet something heavy won't come off
Behind the glass, she checks the phone
I wonder if she feels alone
I think of all the things I've lost
And how each joy has had its cost
This taste, this place, this quiet bar
Will fade like faces in a passing car
No trumpet sounds, no final clue
Just time that swallows me and you
Each weekday morning looks the same
But none of them will get a name

And I sip on my cola drink, let my thoughts sink
Why am I feeling sad and what is this life about? How to find out?
How to find out?
And I sip on my cola drink as the minutes blink
Will this moment matter or will it just burn out?
How to find out? How to find out?

9 o'clock was a second ago
11 is breathing down my neck
Days fold like napkins
Weeks vanish like steam
And one day this room will be dust
And I won't even know what I forgot

And I sip on my cola drink, let my thoughts sink
Why am I feeling sad and what is this life about? How to find out?
How to find out?
And I sip on my cola drink, let my thoughts sink
Why am I feeling sad and what is this life about? How to find out?
How to find out?
And I sip on my cola drink as the world shrinks
No one will remember, not even me, no doubt
How to find out?

Coca Cola (Indie Rock Version)

🎸🚖 Ever been the fool with the keys and the tank on empty? That’s me — the unofficial chauffeur of every lost romance and midnight meltdown.

“Free Private Taxi” is indie rock with headlights on full beam: jangly guitars, sarcastic hooks, and the eternal story of the guy who always says yes when he should scream no. It’s for the backseat philosophers, the half-drunk drama queens, and the hand-waving friends who never chip in for gas.

Think late-night road movie, but shot on your parents’ old camcorder — messy, funny, and painfully relatable.

If you’ve ever been the ride, not the rider — this song’s your anthem.

🎶 Honk. Laugh. Ride. Crash. Sarcasm’s the only tip I get.

Lyrics:

I’m the rolling clown with the fuel I buy,
The king of favors, don’t ask me why.
Door unlocked, engine humming,
You text “pick me up” — and here I’m coming.

No GPS, I know your scheme,
Psychic Uber of your dream.
Wave of a hand, no coins, no cash,
Just me burning tires in a midnight dash.

Free private taxi, this is me —
Take you where you wanna be.
If early morning or dark night —
I pick you up with headlight bright. 

Backseat full of half-drunk friends,
I drive in circles, story never ends.
Thank-you note? Ha, never seen,
Just a wave goodbye from the drama queen.

I’m the chauffeur of lost romance,
Your midnight ride, your cheap last chance.
Every handshake, short and cold,
Costs me gas and my soul’s sold.

Free private taxi, this is me —
Take you where you wanna be.
If early morning or dark night —
I pick you up with headlight bright. 

Trigger words: honk, laugh, ride, crash,
Burning rubber, empty dash.
Punchline life on four cheap wheels,
Sarcasm’s the only tip I feel.

Free private taxi, this is me —
Take you where you wanna be.
If early morning or dark night —
I pick you up with headlight bright.
Free private taxi, always free —
The biggest fool you’ll ever see.

Take You Where You Wanna Be

In another dimension, come join me...

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LYRICS:

You've, you've done better
but i've said, you don't know
what's the point of it all, if you don't understand?
what's the point of it all, if i said i know?

you, oh you
you, oh you

and you've said, you wouldn't mind
if i left my sunday feeling on your mind 
and you said, with quite some confidence
that you would never self-comprehend

you, oh you
you, oh you

you don't get to see this side of my face
cos it's nothing for your sight anyway
and you, don't let me be inside, i don't need to
you don't need to see this side, i just won't go

and you don't need to see, through my maze of haze

and i said, i don't know about you
look at me, at what i said
you don't know i know, you don't know i know

you, oh you
you, oh you


Maze Of Haze

Ever had that moment when your phone lights up with the name — the one that still makes your stomach do a confused gymnastics routine — but instead of running off for a secret rendezvous, you’re stuck sipping lukewarm tea at a touristy hotel while your kid dreams of knights and castles? Yeah, this song is exactly that.

It’s indie rock tangled with jangle pop nerves and post-punk excuses: guitars that sparkle like sunlight on a too-white hotel balcony, a bassline that sounds like pacing in flip-flops, and drums that slam shut like a text bubble turning gray.

“Not today, babe” becomes the world’s most melodramatic out-of-office reply — part soap opera, part self-care, part “my WiFi signal is terrible and so is my judgment.” It’s the sound of almost saying yes, but instead writing “maybe next time” while hiding under the covers.

So if you’ve ever dodged an old flame with excuses ranging from mild illness to spiritual unavailability — congratulations, this track is your new national anthem.

Play it loud, dodge responsibly, and remember: not today, babe.

Lyrics: 

Sunny place, old hotel
My boy’s asleep, I’m doing well
A ping, a name I used to know
“You’re nearby?” …whoa-oh-oh

You say, "Let's meet?" — I sip my tea
Look at the sky, not the screen
Got a kid, a mood, a messy head
So I type these words instead

Not today, babe — I’m feelin’ kinda sick
Catchin’ something — must be quick
Leavin’ early — need my bed
(Yeah, I said what I said)

Not today, babe — I’d love to but no
Maybe next time — maybe so
It’s just not right, not tonight
(I’m alright… but not that alright) 

You were fire, I was rain
Now we’re just a weekend train
Could’ve met you near the gate
But I guess I hesitate

My boy dreams of castle kings
While I’m dodging old flame flings
Your name glows, my heart skips
But I send a text with careful lips

Not today, babe — I’m feelin’ kinda weird
Too much sun or too much fear
Leavin’ early — got my ride
(And a little pride to hide)

Not today, babe — oh, timing’s tight
What we had was outta sight
But I’m not that girl, not this week
(Though I miss the way you speak) 

Could’ve been wine and maybe more
But I locked that window, closed that door
Send a kiss through pixel haze
Then I dance the doubt away…

Not today, babe — the signal’s weak
I lost my voice, I cannot speak
Leavin’ early, feelin’ pale
(But you still read every tale)

Not today, babe — you kinda knew
I was tempted, I was too
But the mom in me just smiled
And the girl in me… went wild

Not Today, Babe (Indie Rock Version)

Ever feel like Mother Nature is trolling you personally? 🌞❄️ One minute you’re a rotisserie chicken roasting under the sun, the next you’re a frozen TV dinner rattling under three blankets. “Hot Days, Cold Nights” is the anthem for everyone who just wanted a chill 22°C and instead got cosmic whiplash.

It’s sweaty, it’s shivery, it’s sarcastic—like being invited to a sauna and an ice cave in the same calendar day. The guitars sizzle, the drums frostbite, and the vocals land somewhere between weather report and therapy session.

Warning: listening may cause you to laugh at your own suffering and/or apply sunscreen at midnight.

🔥☀️ Hot Days. ❄️🌙 Cold Nights. Balance? Never heard of her.

Lyrics:

Wake up drenched, a human soup,
Daylight cooks you, skin’s the proof.
Step outside, it’s a solar crime,
Smile for the burn, you’ll be fine.

Fast-forward to night, what a joke,
Fingers numb, your laughter broke.
Blankets pile, still no win,
Hot or cold—pick your sin.

Hot Days, Cold Nights – Sun Sights – Flickering Lights
Boil or shake – stay alive or break.

Day is lava, night’s a morgue,
Body’s a seesaw, spine’s the board.
Sweat or shiver, no middle ground,
Nature laughs, you’re her clown.

From sauna to freezer in twelve short hours,
Balance? Please. She stripped that power.
It’s cosmic roulette, skin or bone,
Either you’re scorched or you turn to stone.

Hot Days, Cold Nights – Sun Sights – Flickering Lights
Boil or shake – stay alive or break.

No calm, no middle, no room to breathe,
Just burn or freeze, just rot or seethe.
Irony’s sharp, like a knife in the air—
Extremes are the trend, and balance is rare.

Hot Days, Cold Nights – Sun Sights – Flickering Lights
Boil or shake – stay alive or break.

Climate Roulette

Two years ago life was like a freshly baked strudel: warm, crisp, and just sweet enough. Now it’s more like a microwave lasagna at 3 a.m.—edible, but spiritually questionable. Back then, beers were cheaper, meat loaf still had self-respect, and my heating bill didn’t look like it was drafted by the IMF. Even politicians knew how to rotate scandals instead of recycling the same diaper.

This track is my time machine, only without the complicated paradoxes—just verses about gray hairs, overpriced barbers, and tires that actually held air instead of debt. A hymn to that magical pre-inflation era when nights felt lighter, pints felt heavier, and parking in Vienna didn’t require dark rituals.

So close your eyes, press play, and pretend your rent is still a joke instead of a horror novel.

Lyrics:

Pages torn from calendars whisper softer lies,
The mirror showed a face with fewer silver skies.
Coins still rang with something close to worth,
And the pint in my hand was twice the earth.

Bills were smaller, shadows thin,
Even scandals changed like second skin.
And the streets gave space without a fight,
Every wrong felt a little more right.

Because two years ago, it was two years ago,
Days were bright, nights felt light.
Because two years ago, it was two years ago,
Every taste was sharp, every cost was slight.

A chair in the barber’s took less of my pay,
And less of my hair fell quietly gray.
The meat loaf crunched like it wanted to sing,
Now it sighs like a tired and soggy thing.

Even the tires carried only air,
Not the weight of debts I can’t repair.
And the warmth of winter felt like grace,
Not a ransom note in the fireplace.

Because two years ago, it was two years ago,
Days were bright, nights felt light.
Because two years ago, it was two years ago,
Every taste was sharp, every cost was slight.

Two Years Ago

🔥 THE SHUT DOWN 🔥
A storm of guitars, rage, and truth — “The Shut Down” tears through the noise with heavy riffs, raw emotion, and lyrics that hit where it hurts. This track calls out the chaos of a broken system, the frustration of voices left unheard, and the fire of a generation that refuses to be silenced.

It’s more than music — it’s rebellion in rhythm.
It’s anger with a pulse.
It’s The Shut Down.

🎸 Genre: Alternative Rock / Heavy Rock
💥 Mood: Intense, Political, Powerful
🎧 Turn it up. Feel the shutdown.

The Shut Down

Imagine The Cure got locked in IKEA overnight, R.E.M. overslept and missed rehearsal, and Johnny Marr had to write a song about hitting snooze 14 times in a row. That’s basically this track.

It’s the indie rock hymn for anyone who’s ever stared at the clock during the day and thought: “Seriously, is this thing even moving, or is time just gaslighting me?”

Grey mornings, mocking clocks, and the eternal struggle between being a functioning human vs. becoming a blanket burrito — all wrapped in jangly guitars and post-punk gloom you can actually dance-cry to.

So go ahead: close the curtains, throw on your headphones, and pretend the world doesn’t exist until at least noon tomorrow. This song won’t judge you. In fact, it’ll probably join you under the covers.

Lyrics:

Grey light burns my weary eyes,
Every hour a thin disguise.
I drag my body through the day,
Hoping night will steal me away.

The sun feels heavy, the world’s too loud,
But in my dreams, I lose the crowd.

When finally this day is done?
I want to escape, I want to run!
Into the bed, into the deep,
Where I belong, where I can sleep.

The clocks keep mocking, hands don’t move,
The daylight leaves me nothing to prove.
But silence waits behind the dark,
To heal my soul, relight the spark.

The night forgives what day denies,
I close my heart, I close my eyes.

When finally this day is done?
I want to escape, I want to run!
Into the bed, into the deep,
Where I belong, where I can sleep.

Don’t wake me, don’t break me,
This fragile peace can save me.
Dreams hold me, they own me,
The night’s the only place I’m free.

When finally this day is done?
I want to escape, I want to run!
Into the bed, into the deep,
Where I belong, where I can sleep.

Daylight fades, I disappear,
The night’s my truth

When Finally This Day Is Done?

“A musical journey that blends nature and introspection: a place where belonging fuels clarity, renewal, and the drive to reach new heights. Modern Rock with a retro touch, wide cinematic atmospheres, and an immersive vibe that inspires rediscovery and transformation.”

This single is from my New album "Where I Belong" OUT NOW!!
Video on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7awFnS4Y9I

Walking Away (On This Mountain)

Keyboards, synthesizers, piano are the brushes to paint my musical vision. I don't limit myself to a genre: my ideas are shaped in multiple sound universes, creating each time something unique and authentic based on the idea I have in mind, contaminating but also sometimes experimenting. This is me.

No permission is granted to use in any way the audio and/or video content of Lenn Reason for training (or other purposes) of any Artificial Intelligence.
Music Copyrights: ℗ Lenn Reason.

Hi there — welcome to my corner of the web.

I’m here for one simple reason: to share my music with you.
Take a listen, explore, and I hope something here resonates with you. Enjoy the vibe!

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