ALWAYS KIDS

Late at night in the dim lit corner,
An old guitar starts to play,
The bluesman sings of the roads he's taken,
Object-based high-level middleware, they say.

#Employee of life, #must we always follow,
Down the paths that others have worn so thin?
His voice, it quivers with the weight of wisdom,
As the slow blues rhythm draws us in.

The harmonica wails a soulful pleading,
#Discover truths hidden deep within,
#Sign your name on the dotted line of fate,
Without a guide, without a kin.

His fingers slide on worn guitar strings,
Echoes of stories that never die,
In each note, a whisper of the ages,
Underneath the vast, unending sky.

Between word and silence, a range so tender,
A center where all our sorrows meet,
Relationships tangled like strings on a fretboard,
Whatever the rhythm, the blues repeat.

Dusky bars filled with smoky whispers,
Where the soul of the music refuses to bow,
Here he sings of lost and longing,
In the melody, our sacred vow.

So listen close to the tales he's telling,
Through the blues that bleed and sway,
In every line, a history's written,
Of lives lived in shades of gray.

Object - Based High - Level Middleware

Bare feet in the sand, where the ocean meets the land,  
Island rhythm, take me by the hand.  
Palm trees sway to the reggae beat,  
Sun kisses skin where the warm rays meet.

Gentle waves lap against the shore,  
Heartbeat syncing with the ocean’s roar.  
Drums tap out a slow, steady rhythm,  
Carried on the breeze, a living system.

The sun sets low in a fiery display,  
Cooling the air as we sway.  
Music floats from a beachside bar,  
Under the twilight, beneath the stars.

Rhythms resonate through the calm sea air,  
A melody soft, beyond compare.  
Laid-back vibes, the island's own,  
In this paradise, we’ve found our home.

Each note a brush stroke of vibrant hues,  
Painting a picture too perfect to refuse.  
Relaxing, soothing, the day drifts by,  
On island time, where spirits fly.

Steel drums play a tune so sweet,  
Echoing along the quiet street.  
Harmonies blend with the salt and spray,  
In this moment, let the music play.

Peace fills the air, no rush, no fight,  
Just gentle songs that feel so right.  
Island rhythm, in every beat,  
A perfect escape, oh so sweet.

Island Rhythm

Under the glow of the starlit sky,  
We dance, we laugh, and sometimes we cry.  
Starlight melody, in our hearts play,  
Turning the night into our day.

Catchy beats, the crowd's alive,  
With every song, we thrive.  
Lights flash, hands wave in sync,  
In this moment, our spirits link.

Voices rise from the dance floor flood,  
Singing out loud, the feeling's good.  
Starlight beams on faces bright,  
In the rhythm of the night.

Each chorus a whisper of dreams so bright,  
Melodies that soar like kites in flight.  
Pop anthems that set us free,  
In the starlight, who we're meant to be.

The bass drops, feet stomp the ground,  
Every heart beats to the sound.  
Starlight melody, sweet and clear,  
Carries the hopes of those we hold dear.

Through the speakers, the tunes embrace,  
A thousand smiles on a single face.  
Upbeat rhythms, a lyrical spree,  
Under the stars, we're wild and free.

Every note a sparkling light,  
Guiding us through the deepest night.  
Starlight melody, catch and hold,  
A story of love and dreams retold.

Starlight Melody

Midnight hour, the world's asleep,  
Except for the blues that dig so deep.  
Guitar strings wail under weary hands,  
Echoing the soul of no-man's lands.

Each note drips like rain in the dark,  
Each chord a cry from the heart.  
Deep blues soul, it starts to seep,  
Through the walls where shadows creep.

Whiskey voice, gravel and smoke,  
Tales of life, stroke by stroke.  
Strumming slow, bending strings,  
The deep blues soul, it sings, it stings.

The rhythm of a heart that's bruised,  
Melodies born from years of use.  
Lonely streets and neon lights,  
Fuel the fire that the blues ignites.

Down here where the feelings dwell,  
Guitar talks, stories it tells.  
Of love lost, and pain endured,  
In every line, the truth is cured.

Soulful cries in the thick night air,  
A solace found in the blues' bare.  
Each pluck a pulse of the deeper trails,  
A sound that sails, never fails.

So let these strings play what words can’t say,  
Let the deep blues soul carry the day.  
Through hardened fingers, the stories flow,  
In the depth of night, let the blues grow.

Deep Blues Soul

As the sun sets, the city sighs,  
Evening drapes the urban skies.  
Soft sax whispers start to play,  
Melting the remnants of the day.

Smooth jazz flows through the night,  
A gentle balm in the fading light.  
Notes that curl like smoke in air,  
Drawing circles of comfort there.

Through the streets, the music glides,  
A tender escort as daylight hides.  
Saxophone croons in sultry tones,  
Weaving stories through its moans.

A touch of velvet in each sound,  
Where peace and quiet are profound.  
The hustle fades into the beat,  
A smooth retreat from the city's heat.

In every note, a soft caress,  
In every pause, a silent confess.  
Jazz fills the spaces between,  
Painting scenes seldom seen.

The rhythm soft, the mood set low,  
In the twilight’s tender glow.  
With every breath that the sax takes,  
A smoother, gentler evening makes.

Linger here in harmony,  
Let the jazz set your spirit free.  
Smooth evening, hold us tight,  
In your arms, we find the night.

Smooth Evening.

Echoes of stone, through the amp's deep roar,
Distorted guitars on a stony shore.
Voices rise in a thunderous wave,
Carved from the rock, the sound we crave.

Riffs that grind, steel on stone,
In the reverberation, we find our own.
Drums that beat against the chest,
In the rhythm, we're never at rest.

A sonic blast, fierce and raw,
Breaking all the rules we saw.
Power chords in a fierce array,
Echoes of stone, here to stay.

Through the speakers, the vibrations roll,
A primal scream from the soul.
Lyrics forged in the fires of old,
Stories of the brave, the bold.

With every strum, the ground shakes,
The solid earth, it quakes.
Under the weight of the bass's sound,
Where the roots of rock are found.

Loud, the chorus, we all sing,
In the echoes, our voices ring.
The stage alight with a fiery glow,
In the stone, the sparks we sow.

From deep within, the power floods,
A river of rock, sweat, and blood.
Echoes of stone, in the air,
Catch the sound, if you dare.

Echoes Of Stone

In the concert hall where silence reigns,  
The baton lifts, begins the strains.  
Strings that whisper in the hush,  
Rising gently, a tranquil rush.

Violins sing with the morning's glow,  
Notes that sparkle, soft and slow.  
Cellos join with deeper hues,  
Painting shadows with gentle blues.

Flutes respond in crystal streams,  
Carrying light in aerial beams.  
Oboes echo with serene delight,  
Dancing gently through the night.

Horns proclaim with golden tones,  
Carved from the day's bright cornerstones.  
Bassoons murmur beneath the swell,  
In the symphony where beauties dwell.

Timpani's soft thunder rolls,  
Underneath, the bass line strolls.  
Harps pluck strings of silken thread,  
Weaving dreams where angels tread.

The orchestra builds a tapestry,  
Notes that form a canopy.  
Each movement a chapter told,  
In the story, bold yet old.

Crescendos rise like the sun's own light,  
Casting rays both warm and bright.  
The music soars, then gently falls,  
In the symphony that enthralls.

With each wave, the light cascades,  
In luminous, orchestral shades.  
Symphony of light, pure and clear,  
In every note, the heart draws near.

Symphony Of Light

In the heartbeat of the street, reality speaks,  
Rhymes spill, the truth leaks.  
Every verse, a life chapter unfolds,  
On gritty pavements where the truth is told.

Sidewalk prophets, with beats as their staff,  
Narrating the struggle, the tears, the laugh.  
Life’s raw deal in the lines they deliver,  
Flowing like a harsh, cold river.

Bass heavy, words cut deep,  
In the city’s heart, where secrets creep.  
Lyrics pound with the pulse of the night,  
In shadows cast by the streetlight.

Stories of hustle, pain, and survival,  
Against the odds, a constant revival.  
Words like bullets, rhythmically fired,  
In the realms of the tired and wired.

From the corners of the forgotten blocks,  
To the sound of the ticking clocks.  
Reality raps, with a beat that knocks,  
Breaking chains, picking locks.

Echoes of dreams deferred,  
In every beat, in every word.  
Rhymes rooted in the everyday,  
In what we do, in what we say.

A soundtrack for those who walk these paths,  
Finding poetry in the aftermath.  
Hip-hop's heart, in reality’s grip,  
Where truth is sung from the hip.

Rhymes Of Reality

In the heart of the city, where the neon lights glow,  
Digital pulse, it begins to flow.  
Synthesized beats, cutting through the night,  
In a world where the rhythms write.

Electronica in the air, charged and alive,  
Every node, every pulse, set to drive.  
Bass thunders deep, a synthetic storm,  
Melodies woven, not the norm.

Through circuits and wires, the music streams,  
Creating worlds beyond our dreams.  
In the digital heart of the vibrant beat,  
Where the dance of the bytes feels complete.

Flashing lights synchronize with the sound,  
In the digital pulse, where we're bound.  
Layers of noise, a harmonious clash,  
Under the sky's electronic flash.

Rhythms that twist through the digital mesh,  
Complex patterns, forever fresh.  
From the silence, a beat is born,  
Echoing from dusk till morn.

Frequencies that dance and dive,  
In this digital world, we come alive.  
Modern life in a sonic embrace,  
In every beat, it finds its place.

A pulse that's felt through the city's veins,  
Overcoming the digital terrains.  
This is the beat of the modern age,  
On the electronic stage, it takes the stage.

Object - Based High - Level Middleware

TALKING ABOUT RECORD

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