Alarm cracks at six, echo in my bones
Stiff spine, broken rest — daylight cuts like stones
Once I rose at eight, clean work, marching on
Now I drag through frames, ache where muscles dawn

I feel the pulse, the weight, dragging me down

Wake me up, though I’m already torn
Darkness bleeds into the morn
Fever in my back, shadows in my skin
I used to rise at eight, now the ache won’t let me win

Yesterday’s promise, slipping under sheets
Once strong arms to build, now fatigue defeats
Coffee burns my tongue, but never heals the load
Every breath, a war, in this hollow road

Heartbeat syncs with wires, circuits of despair

Wake me up, though I’m already torn
Darkness bleeds into the morn
Fever in my back, shadows in my skin
I used to rise at eight, now the ache won’t let me win

Time was on my side, now it’s just the grind

Wake me up, though I’m already torn
Darkness bleeds into the morn
Fever in my back, shadows in my skin
I used to rise at eight, now the ache won’t let me win

Wake me up (Unreleased)

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.

Wake me up (Unreleased)

Terminalose