ALWAYS KIDS

Programmable intangible adapter, a soulful groove,
Smooth vocals flowing, in the rhythm we move.
Emotive lyrics, touching the heart,
Deep focus on melody, a work of art.

Girl science newspaper rise, a story told,
Special high protect, in a world so bold.
Law and order, written in the sky,
Store the memories, as time passes by.

Child of the rhythm, dancing to the beat,
In the office of dreams, where soul and life meet.
Foot tapping softly, to the harmonic blend,
Soul music’s magic, where heartaches mend.

A journey of the spirit, in every note,
Smooth vocals guiding, like a lyrical boat.
Programmable thoughts, intangible and free,
Adapter of emotions, in the melody.

Protect the essence, of what we feel,
In the rise of the soul, everything’s real.
Special moments captured, in the song we sing,
High above the worries, where our spirits cling.

Meeting of the minds, in the harmony,
Soul’s gentle touch, setting us free.
Through the trials, and through the pain,
Soul music’s embrace, forever remains.

A child’s laughter, a lover’s sigh,
In the world of soul, emotions fly high.
Office of dreams, law of the heart,
Store the beauty, in every part.

Footsteps echo, in the halls of time,
Soul’s soft whisper, a celestial chime.
Programmable love, intangible grace,
In the realm of soul, we find our place.

Programmable Intangible Adapter

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.

Programmable Intangible Adapter

TALKING ABOUT RECORD

Related tracks