Every Friday, I walk the same way...
To the chestnut tree at the end of the road.
It waits for me — and I, for it.

Heavy steps on silent stone,
Each one says, “You’re still alone.”
The world cheers Friday, starts to glow,
But I move slow, I move below.
The laughter lives behind closed doors,
But I keep walking, past the stores.
My thoughts are loud, the streets are dumb,
I’m not sure why—but still I come.

The gravel crunch, the faded sign,
An old restaurant, lost to time.
The chestnut waits—my weekly mark,
A sacred hush, a question's spark.

Friday, 11:00 a.m., at the chestnut tree –
A crow is cackling mockingly –
Eyes in the sky –
Wondering why –
No mood to cry –
But life feels dry –
Turning around –
Eyes to the ground –
Back where I came – alone.
Friday, at 11:00 a.m. I moan

Across the street, the houses breathe,
Behind their gardens, children weave.
But I just stand, I barely blink,
I ask the sky what it might think.
I speak in silence, soft and slow,
But answers never seem to show.
And still I come, and still I wait—
A heart half-open, half-resigned to fate.

It’s not about hope, it’s not about peace,
It’s where the noise and pressure cease.
A moment out of time, alone—
Where questions rise, then turn to stone.

Friday, 11:00 a.m., at the chestnut tree –
A crow is cackling mockingly –
Eyes in the sky –
Wondering why –
No mood to cry –
But life feels dry –
Turning around –
Eyes to the ground –
Back where I came – alone.
Friday, at 11:00 a.m. I moan

The same path, the same breath...
Still no answers... just the tree... and me.

Friday 11:00 am at the Chestnut Tree

You crept in... like velvet math,
A sideways glitch... in my bubble bath.
Eyes spoke jazz... but lips said “gone,”
You dropped a beat... and I held on.
Your shadow blinked... I missed the frame,
Truth snuck past... with no real name.
I didn’t run, I didn’t float —
I slipped between your second coat.

Let it fade... let it fly...
I learned to dance... without a sky.
You said “forget” — but made it hum,
A reverb kiss... and then... I’m numb.

You taught me how to lose—
(to lose... lose... echo... fuse...)
With rhythm...
With grace...
In barefoot shoes...
Through smoke and bass.
No highs to chase, no mask to wear,
Just busted light... and jungle air.
You slipped out soft... I filled that space —
You taught me how to lose... with bass.

I cursed your name in lowercase,
But still you left that aftertaste.
A monk once winked, said: “Some fall slow...”
I looped his line... and let you go.
My mirror grinned, then shook its head —
“You’re not alone, you’re just misread.”
And now I dance where clocks don’t tick —
Each beat a trick... each breath a flick.

You said “be still”—I slipped inside,
No fight, no rules, no need to hide.
Your silence wrote a secret rhyme,
A dub of peace... across my spine.

You taught me how to lose—
With basslines...
With rain...
With shoes that whisper “not again.”
No trophies here, no neon sign,
Just echoes fading in 4/9 time.
You're the signal in my empty place —
You taught me how to lose... with grace.

To the things that never broke —
To the smoke inside the joke.
To the beat we never caught —
To the fight we almost fought...

“Let the echo... be the clue...
What you lose... becomes your view...”

You taught me how to lose—
In riddles... in rain...
With barefoot fire... and soundless pain.
You’re the shimmer I still chase —
A ghost that grins inside the bass.
I let go — not to erase...
You taught me how to lose...
With grace.

You Taught Me How to Lose

🎶 Play stupid games — win stupid prizes,
All dressed up for midlife crises.
Asked the algorithm for love and got surprises —
It answered back with paid advises. 🎶

You quit your job on a Monday zoom,
To be a DJ in your living room.
Three gigs in, you burned out fast —
Now you teach “resilience” in a yoga class.

You bought that coin when it hit its peak,
Thought you'd be rich by the end of the week.
Now your wallet holds just dreams and spam,
And twelve links to a crypto scam.

You played the part, you wore the mask,
You answered “fine” when they didn’t ask.
You chased a trend, then blamed the tide —
Now you sell air, and call it pride.

🎶 Play stupid games — win stupid prizes,
All dressed up for midlife crises.
Asked the algorithm for love and got surprises —
It answered back with paid advises. 🎶

You told your boss “I manifest,”
Now you make reels while half-dressed.
Thought you’d heal with crystals and sage,
But your therapist ghosted — off the grid with rage.

You posted “facts” like gospel lines,
Then argued logic with discount wines.
You brought a knife to a laser fight,
Said “it’s fine” as you blocked the light.

You moved in fast with someone new,
Told yourself “this must be true.”
But flat-pack love won’t stand for long,
when every bolt is guessed half-wrong.

🎶 Play stupid games — win stupid prizes,
All dressed up for midlife crises.
You took the bait, now read the bill —
It says: “Pay in full… or stand still.” 🎶

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes

I moved too fast through static scenes,
Chasing gold in broken screens.
The silence hit with velvet fists,
The light I chased... it don’t exist.

Shadows hummed beneath the floor,
I knocked but didn’t find a door.
Then basslines bloomed in grayscale light —
And whispered truths that felt just right.

One soft breath in delay…
Two hearts pull away…
Three beats lose their fight…
And then — the light.

Lie, lie, lie… light,
Didn’t feel you ‘til the floor broke right.
Lie, lie, lie… light,
Didn’t see you ‘til the blur took flight.
Lie, lie, lie… light,
You crash like silence into sound —
And I rise where I broke down.

I wore that calm like second skin,
But shadows called and pulled me in.
The smile I kept was full of holes,
Just echoes bouncing off my roles.

Now synths are sharp, but feel like home,
I dance inside this monochrome.
It’s not the light that makes me stay —
It’s how the dark rewrites the day.

One glitch under the sigh…
Two lies in lullaby…
Three loops caught too tight…
And then — the light.

Lie, lie, lie… light,
You don’t shine when everything’s fine.
Lie, lie, lie… light,
You show up when I cross the line.
Lie, lie, lie… light,
Drop the beat and bend the night —
I only found you in the fight.

(spoken – echoed, delayed)
Shadow’s a map with no edge…
A bassline slips like a promise said.
You don’t climb to light — you fall.
And bounce… and bounce… and stall.

Lie, lie, lie… light, (echo: lie… lie…)
You flicker soft but hit so tight.
Lie, lie, lie… light,
You’re the glitch that made it right.
Lie, lie, lie… light…
You bloom in static, bloom in fright —
You shine when nothing else feels right.

Lie… lie… liiiight…
(rewind… rewind…)
Shhhhhh…

Light (Pop Version)

You flickered in like static light,
A smile that twitched, then sank from sight.
Spoke in warmth, but moved in chill —
I’ve danced with ghosts, I’ve had my fill.

You wore the storm behind your face,
A velvet voice with zero grace.
Glass of red, your neon plan —
Another glitch in a broken man.

Perfume fades, your fire cheats,
You promised oceans — gave me streets.
All your sparks just misbehave,
I don’t want love that needs a save.

Bo bo bo bo boring…
You burn too fast, no warning.
One kiss loud, then cold again —
You're looped in charm, but short on flame.

Bo bo bo bo boring…
Your chaos died mid-morning.
You say you’re wild — I see the glitch,
Another flicker without switch.

You played me jazz, poured me gin,
Your eyes confessed what’s wearing thin.
You call it fate, I call it spin —
That old illusion dressed as sin.

Where’s your tremble? Where’s your climb?
Why love like you’re avoiding time?
I don’t want nice, I want the break —
The messy part that lovers fake.

🎵 Whisper it low… then pitch it high,
🎵 Your spark don’t touch — it just passes by.
🎵 Bassline skips, your story loops —
🎵 I ghost you back before you move.

Bo bo bo bo boring…
You flash like code — then silence.
You light the fuse, then dodge the flame —
Same sweet face, same erased name.

Bo bo bo bo boring…
Same glitch-heart in new clothing.
You call it real — I see the lag,
Another blaze in a paper bag.

Bo bo bo bo boring…
Been there, danced that warning.
You strike, you fade, you stall mid-flight —
I crave the dark that breaks just right.

Bo bo bo bo boring…
Even wild boys stop roaring.
Light me loud — or let me sleep,
I’m done with sparks that never keep.

Burnt out twice…
Dimmed again.
Different lips.
Same end.

Boring (Pop Version)

It’s Monday again, the sky breaks low,
June slips in with a quiet glow.
Bare feet cold on the wooden grain,
Steam from my cup, soft in the rain.

No rush in my chest, no rules tonight,
Just me and the room and the fading light.
The window’s open, the rhythm slow,
And the raindrops tap like they used to know.

Eyes closed, I feel it rise —
The pulse beneath these cloudy skies.
A breath, a breeze, a silent pull…
And every beat feels beautiful.

🌧️ Dab… dab… dab… dabdabdabdabdab…
Rain hits soft, like the words we never had.
I sway alone where the echoes start,
Each drop a sound straight through my heart.

🪟 Move me slow, don’t let me fall,
Let the night just say it all.
Dabdabdab… it used to be,
You, the rain — and the quiet in me.

Streetlight flickers on the windowpane,
Like little ghosts whispering your name.
I twist, I shift, but don’t escape —
The storm outside fits my shape.

Skin’s still warm from yesterday,
But nothing you said ever chose to stay.
No pings, no calls, just this low-lit sound,
And a heart that spins but won’t slow down.

I let the silence talk for me,
Wrapped in synths and memory…

🌧️ Dab… dab… dab… dabdabdabdabdab…
Beats fall soft like a love gone bad.
Still I dance in a room half bare,
Wishing your hands were really there.

🪟 Barefoot steps, no shame, no sound,
Just echoes swirling all around.
Dabdabdab… it used to be,
The rain, the beat — and what we’d never say completely.

Dab… dab… dab…
(Whispered: "Are you still here… or just delay?")
Dabdabdab…
(Fade into reverb tail, no final chord.)

Dab Dab Dab (Pop Version)

Steam on the mirror, dinner gone cold,
Messages blinking, stories retold.
Deadlines and chaos, I try to stay sane,
But you sneak in like a shadow in rain.

Eyes closed tight, but your voice breaks through,
Laughing in loops like you always do.
We bent too far on a reckless high,
Now you echo like a last goodbye.

I light a match, then let it burn,
You’re still the lesson I never learn.

Lali lalala... can't forget you... still.
Like perfume trapped in window chill.
You fade in slow when the lights go dim,
A ghost in the room, soft on a whim.
Lali lalala... still not free... not yet.
You’re the glitch in my silhouette.
Just a feeling I can't outplay —
But baby, I press replay.

New nights, new names, I try the dance,
But your rhythm’s stitched into every chance.
You’re the sound beneath the mix,
A pulse that breaks through every fix.

I cook alone, your laugh cuts deep,
Still stirs my thoughts, still haunts my sleep.
I breathe, I smile, I pour the wine —
But you show up between the lines.

I built a wall, but you still seep through,
The quiet knows what I won’t do.

Lali lalala... can't forget you... still.
You bloom inside when the world stands still.
A whisper wrapped in memory dust,
A song that fades but breaks my trust.
Lali lalala... still not free... I know.
You echo in the afterglow.
You’re the freeze in a moving day —
And yeah, I press replay.

You tried to fade…
But I kept the file.
Soft and slow…
You're the glitch in style.

"Enjoy..." (whispered delay)
*"Just a dream?" — nah. You stayed awhile.

Lali lalala... can't forget you... still.
You're my silence when I try to chill.
I move through days, but don’t let go —
You hum beneath my after-show.
Lali lalala... still not free... so near.
You’re the voice I always hear.
Not a ghost, not just a phase —
You're my forever delayed.

Can't Forget Me (Pop Version)

🎧 Another Sunday Morning
Genre: French House × Filter House × Robotic Groove
BPM: 123
Mood: Euphoric • Mellow • Retro-Futuristic • Slightly Existential
Vocal: Robotic, vocoder-processed, dreamy-repetitive

☕✨ Wake up to glittering confusion.

“Another Sunday Morning” is a bittersweet disco loop from a future that never arrived.
Filtered pianos, sidechained synths, vocoded whispers — and a golden groove that spins somewhere between comfort and craving.

Behind the robotic glow:
☀️ a peaceful morning with no reason to ache — yet something's still missing.
🪞 layers of filtered sunshine, soft bass, and repetitive warmth
🎛️ funky echoes of silence, joy, and a cappuccino that can’t answer your soul

🌀 Perfect for:
– Dancing in your bathrobe
– Rooftop introspection
– Disco balls with minor existential crises
– Driving nowhere on purpose

🎶 Hook: Another... Sunday... Morning... (loop it. feel it. don't explain it.)

Lyrics:

The light slips in through cotton glass,
A hush wrapped in a golden pass.
The birds repeat their woven tune,
But I still float in yesterday’s room.

No worries knocking at my door,
No flames, no noise, no need for more.
I asked the stars to make me whole —
But woke up feeling almost full.

The coffee warms my fingers,
The sunlight’s softly pouring —
Nothing feels too heavy,
Just… another Sunday morning.

The silence isn’t empty,
But something feels like stalling —
I breathe, I wait, I wonder —
Another Sunday morning.

The table hums in lemon light,
My mirror blinks — it slept all night.
The house behaves, the breeze is mild,
But something deep remains exiled.

The air is soft, the stillness sweet,
But there's a rhythm I don’t meet.
Like joy was meant to knock today —
But turned around and lost its way.

Maybe peace just means no sound,
But silence isn’t solid ground.
Maybe joy won’t shout or sing —
It just forgets its offering.

The coffee warms my fingers,
The sunlight’s softly pouring —
No storm, no crash, no answer,
Just… another Sunday morning.

The sky is clear with waiting,
The heart is still exploring —
I smile into the silence —
Another Sunday morning.

Another… Sunday… Morning…
Another… another… Sunday… Morning…

Another Sunday Morning

👨‍💻💔 “He leads. He patches. He cries in YAML.”
Indie Pop / Synthpop | Vibe: Melancholy Meets Groove

Welcome to the fluorescent-lit saga of The Lonely Leader — a tragicomic anthem for every one-man IT department who dares to dream beyond the firewall.

Armed with warm synths, mellow basslines, plucky guitars, and the existential dread of a forgotten helpdesk ticket, this synth-soaked track turns server room solitude into a slow-motion dance party for one. Think: Prince if he was debugging printers. Or The Postal Service if they auto-replied to their own emails.

✨ Ideal for:
• Dancing alone in your office chair
• Crying in binary
• Giving yourself a raise during a lunch break

This is IT-core at its finest — a love letter to the unsung sysadmin with a coffee-stained hoodie and a heart full of uptime.

🎧 Press play.
Then press Ctrl+Alt+Del on your emotions.

Lyrics:

He’s got a coffee-stained hoodie and a plastic throne
With four old monitors he calls “the zone”
He runs the scripts, resets your phone
Answers every ticket with a heavy groan

He’s got root access, no one to impress
The office Slack is just him and... well, guess.
He writes policies with formal flair
And hosts the Friday meeting — alone in his chair

🎶 He’s the lonely leader, king of the LAN
Managing chaos with a one-man plan
Every email signed with “Regards, IT ”
But it’s just him behind that strategy

He deploys, he decides, he debates with the wall
The network’s secure — but there’s no one to call
He leads the charge, takes every blow
In a war no one knows… the solo CTO 🎶

He audits the backups, reboots with pride
Gives himself a raise on the mental side
He chairs the meetings with action points
Then argues with the printer just to hear a voice

He drafts an upgrade plan, two years ahead
Approved unanimously — inside his head
He documents processes no one will read
And dreams of interns who never proceed

🎶 He’s the lonely leader, boss of the wires
CEO of expired antivirus
His world is quiet, but the pings still hum
A kingdom ruled from a server room 🎶

He gives a toast in the breakroom air
“To us, the team — though no one’s there”
Raises his mug, lets out a sigh
He’s the whole org chart in a single guy

🎶 Still the lonely leader, but standing proud
He keeps the lights on without a crowd
Patch by patch, and ping by ping
A silent hero in a digital ring

He codes, he cries, he carries the load
On a rolling chair down an empty road
He leads himself, and that’s enough —
Even if it’s lonely stuff 🎶

“Please contact IT … oh wait, that’s me.”

The Lonely Leader

“Hero” by Caeli August is a soul-baring Afrofusion ballad wrapped in warm Zouk-Rumba textures and emotional vocals. In this modern tale of performative love, Caeli questions why she’s only cherished when she’s in crisis—when it serves someone else’s ego. With graceful melodies and vulnerable lyricism, “Hero” delivers a powerful message about emotional honesty and the need for steady, not seasonal, love.

Lyrics
Title: Hero
Written by Aime Pandi Bapaga

You only come around when the sirens sound,
When the walls are burning, when my world breaks down.
You hold me close just so the crowd can see,
But when I stand tall, you disappear from me.

I don’t need saving every single day,
But you don’t stay if there’s no dragon to slay.

Why do you only love me when you look like a hero?
When I’m on the ground and you shine like a halo.
I need someone who stays in the quiet, in the shadow—
Not just when I’m falling, just so you can look like a hero.

When the storm is over, you fade like rain,
I’m your mercy trophy, not a heart to claim.
Do I have to break so you feel alive?
Must I cry just to keep you by my side?

I don’t need saving every single day,
But you don’t stay if there’s no dragon to slay.

Why do you only love me when you look like a hero?
When I’m on the ground and you shine like a halo.
I need someone who stays in the quiet, in the shadow—
Not just when I’m falling, just so you can look like a hero.

Take off the cape—leave your glory behind.
If you can’t love me steady, don’t waste my time.
I’m not a tale for your silver crown—
I need a love that lifts me even when I’m not down.

Why do you only love me when you look like a hero?
When the lights are on and my pain makes you glow like a halo.
I need someone who stays in the quiet, in the shadow—
Not just when I’m falling, just so you can look like a hero.

Not just when I’m falling...
Not just when I’m broken...
Not just when you look like a hero...

3:33

Hero (SoundCloud Mastered)

YYMG (Ya’ Yo Miziki Global) is a pioneering international record label dedicated to producing and releasing premium, boundary-pushing music for the global stage. Specializing in world music and genre fusion, from Afrotrap and Afrofusion to Samba, Dancehall, and unexpected experimental blends, YYMG brings a bold, innovative sound that resonates across cultures and continents.

At our core, we believe in the transformative power of music. Through high-quality production and genre-defying artistry, we aim to elevate listening experiences, stimulate cultural curiosity, and contribute to the mental and emotional growth of our audience.

Whether we’re developing emerging voices or collaborating with global talents, our mission is clear:

> To craft timeless music that challenges borders and sets new standards for creativity and sonic excellence.



YYMG music is globally distributed and available on all major digital streaming platforms, including:

🎧 Spotify, Apple Music, iTunes, YouTube Music, Amazon Music, Tidal, Deezer, Boomplay, Pandora, iHeartRadio, Saavn, Tencent Music, NetEase, ClaroMusica, Yandex Music (beta), Triller (beta), MediaNet, Twitch Soundtrack, and more.

Socially engaged and digitally active, you can also connect with YYMG via: 

📱 Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, Resso, and YouTube


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!

New tracks tagged #melancholygroove