31 reloaded tracks from my latest monthly creations — an anthology of rock. From grunge, garage, and post-punk to prog, doom, emo rock, alt metal, and metalcore, each cut reimagines my originals with raw riffs, crushing drums, and anthemic hooks built for SoundCloud discovery and replay.

ROCK PRISM

I don’t care about the fame
Or the money, or my name
All the whispers that they say
Fade away, they fade away

My mind
It’s been a-hummin’, hummin’
I think it’s time for somethin’, somethin’

And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy

All the things that don’t exist
In the world, the universe
They don’t matter in the end
That’s a blessing, not a curse

My mind
It’s been a-hummin’, hummin’
I think it’s time for somethin’, somethin’

And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy

I’m not chasing what they chase
I just found my better place
I’m not running from the night
I’m just shining in the light

And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy
And I don’t know why
But I’m just happy

I'm just happy (Pure Rock reload)

You said something kind of sweet,
then typed it twice, that’s weird to me.
I saw your playlist, skipped a song,
now everything just feels too long.

Red flag? Maybe.
Blue light? Daily.

I block at the first thing I don’t like.
Don’t ask me why — it feels right.
Could be your tone, could be your face,
could be the way you write “ok”.
No fight, no talk, no sigh — just click.
My peace of mind is algorithmic.

You posted quotes at 2 a.m.,
I saw one twice — that’s where it ends.
No time to fix, no need to prove,
delete the thread, erase the move.

Soft heart? Maybe.
Hard rules? Daily.

I block at the first thing I don’t like.
Don’t ask me why — it feels right.
Could be your tone, could be your face,
could be the way you write “ok”.
No fight, no talk, no sigh — just click.
My peace of mind is algorithmic.

“People say I’m cold —
but warmth attracts bugs.”

I block at the first thing I don’t like.
It keeps my world clean, black and white.
No drama left, no fix to find.
You cross a line — I close the site.

Red flag? Maybe.
Blue light? Daily.
Soft heart? Maybe.
Hard rules? Daily.

I block at the first thing (Indie Rock reload)

Daddy, you work so late at night,
Mom’s got strangers under the light.
Different shoes by the door each day,
Do you know when you’re away?

Daddy, who are all these men?
Mum keeps smiling when they walk in.
Daddy, who are all these men?
Maybe ask her where she’s been.

Daddy, her lipstick’s never clean,
Perfume stronger than I’ve seen.
She says “don’t tell, it’s not your place,”
But I see shadows on her face.

Daddy, who are all these men?
Mum keeps laughing when they walk in.
Daddy, who are all these men?
She won’t say, but I’ve seen them.

Maybe friends, or maybe more,
Why’s she locking every door?
Daddy, should I tell you now?
Or watch you smile while she sneaks out?

Daddy, who are all these men?
Mum keeps smiling when they walk in.
Daddy, who are all these men?
Ask her once, she’ll lie again.

Daddy… maybe you should know.
Daddy… she puts on a show.

Daddy, who are all these men ? (Pop Punk Rock reload)

No code… no future…

Terminal glow, brain on fire,
Primitive hands can’t climb higher.
Wires hum under broken skin,
Machine’s breath crawling in.

Feed the loop, erase the pain,
We’re the ghosts inside the mainframe.

If you can’t code — you’re a caveman,
If you can’t code — you’re a caveman.
Digital storm — break the chain,
Caveman lost — in the rain.

Binary blood, carbon frame,
Human glitch inside the game.
Silicon gods, electric veins,
Old world screaming in the flames.

Feed the loop, erase the pain,
We’re the ghosts inside the mainframe.

If you can’t code — you’re a caveman,
If you can’t code — you’re a caveman.
Digital storm — break the chain,
Caveman lost — in the rain.

Stone to screen — evolution!
Write the code — revolution!
Echo… error… system… crash!
Reset — rebuild — rebirth — backlash!

If you can’t code — you’re a caveman,
If you can’t code — you’re a caveman.
Digital storm — break the chain,
Caveman lost — in the rain.

Code… or cave…
Code… or cave…

If you can’t code (Alt Metal reload)

Drums of Mali shake the ground,
Voices rise, a circling sound.
Kora strings and dust and heat,
Old souls move on tireless feet.

Up the mountains cold and wide,
Caucasus winds on fiddle slide.
Wine and thunder, fire and clay,
Echo songs that never fade.

Every border hums the same,
Different tongues, a single flame.

From the Andes to the desert plain,
Folk keeps calling through the rain.
No empire owns that song,
It’s been here all along.

Gypsy strings in Balkan bars,
Oud and darbuka under stars.
Samba feet and desert cry,
Markets hum, the flutes reply.

From the steppes the voices roll,
Throat and sky become one soul.
Erhu bends the morning light,
Stories bloom from sleepless night.

Every border hums the same,
Different tongues, a single flame.

From the Andes to the desert plain,
Folk keeps calling through the rain.
No empire owns that song,
It’s been here all along.

Oud, kora, charango, shamisen,
Balalaika, rabab, cajón again.
One heartbeat, north to south,
Every story from every mouth.

From the Andes to the desert plain,
Folk keeps calling through the rain.
No empire owns that song,
It’s been here all along.

No flag, no crown, no claim —
Folk is the earth, it has no name.

No empire owns that song (Folk Rock reload)

One, two, three, four!

I wake up in a borrowed shirt,
coffee cold, my knuckles hurt.
No plan, no prayer, no peace of mind,
just a spark that I can’t hide.

They say I talk too loud,
I say they live too quiet.

I don’t need your grace,
I just need the sound.
If I can’t be right,
I’ll be too loud.
I don’t need a name,
I don’t need your crowd.
I just need to feel alive
before I’m figured out.

City lights blur on my skin,
every siren feels like kin.
They write rules, I burn them slow,
’cause what I am, they’ll never know.

They say I’m bound to fall,
I say I’m built to crash.

I don’t need your grace,
I just need the sound.
If I can’t be right,
I’ll be too loud.
I don’t need a name,
I don’t need your crowd.
I just need to feel alive
before I’m figured out.

Clap your hands, stomp the floor,
I want less talk, give me more.
Every noise I make’s my prayer,
every breath says I’m still here.

I don’t need your grace,
I just need the sound.
If I can’t be right,
I’ll be too loud.
I don’t need your rules,
I don’t need your crown.
I just need to feel alive
before I’m figured out.

I don’t need your crowd (Garage Rock reload)

For ten days I'm in RELOAD mode, reworking all my creations from the past twenty days and transforming them into a different musical universe
The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

If you can’t code (Alt Metal reload)

Terminalose