He steals my candy, breaks my toys,
He screams too loud, makes too much noise.
Mom says “be nice,” but I roll my eyes,
’Cause he’s the reason all my patience dies.

I see his face and wanna cry,
He looks like the Amazon delivery guy.

I hate my little brother, I don’t know why,
But he looks like the Amazon delivery guy.
Ugly face, ugly laugh, every day’s a crime,
Yeah, my brother’s just a package left behind.

He wears my shirts, he steals my shoes,
He tattletales when I break the rules.
Mom says “he loves you,” I say “that’s a lie,”
I’d return him fast if I could try.

Every time he walks on by,
I swear it’s the Amazon delivery guy.

I hate my little brother, I don’t know why,
But he looks like the Amazon delivery guy.
Ugly face, ugly laugh, every day’s a crime,
Yeah, my brother’s just a package left behind.

Cardboard soul and bubble wrap tears,
He’s been annoying for fifteen years.
Ring the bell, don’t leave a trace,
Take him back, he’s a shipping mistake.

I hate my little brother, I don’t know why,
But he looks like the Amazon delivery guy.
Ugly face, ugly laugh, every day’s a crime,
Yeah, my brother’s just a package left behind.

Special delivery… return to sender.

My little brother looks like the Amazon delivery guy

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.

I use every tool available — human or machine — as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

I've been chasing sound since the day I ran away from home. 
While most kids were in school, I was digging through crates in record stores - learning rhythm, rebellion, and the raw truth music could carry. By 13, I was sleeping in nightclubs. By 15, I was behind the decks, DJ-ing to survive and to feel something real.

In the 1980's, I became part of Belgium's early electronic wave - spinning vinyl before it was a scene.

But life, as it does, took me away from the spotlight. Still, the music never stopped playing in me.

Now, after all these years, I'm back. Producing my own tracks. No rules, no formulas - just decades of sound, scars, and soul poured into every beat.

For those who've ever felt like outsiders...
For those who live through sound...

This is for you.
The beat goes on. And so do I.

My little brother looks like the Amazon delivery guy

Terminalose