The shadows lengthen, stretching across the room 
Another day is fading, swallowed by the gloom 
The clock ticks on, a metronome of slow decay 
Withering grace, fading fast, slipping away
 
The world outside, a blur of passing lights 
A symphony of sirens, lost in the lonely nights 
Memories flicker, ghosts of joys long gone 
A bittersweet refrain, a mournful, fading song
 
Such a shame, to watch it all unfold 
Beauty withering, a story left untold 
The fragile heart, a vessel cracked and torn 
Drifting aimlessly, lost and forlorn

The rain falls softly, washing dust away 
But the stains remain, with each passing day 
A yearning for the past, a yearning for the light 
To escape this fading echo, in the fading night
 
Such a shame, to watch it all unfold. 
Beauty withering, a story left untold 
The fragile heart, a vessel cracked and torn 
Drifting aimlessly, lost and forlorn
 
A whisper on the wind, a sigh upon the breeze 
Carrying the echoes of forgotten memories 
A yearning for the warmth, a yearning for the grace 
Before the shadows fell, and time began to race

Such Like A Shame

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¡Shpiln di griln tantsn di vantsn!
The emptiness of various Corona lockdowns made Focke the Fockmaster. Musically, he tried out various styles to end up where everything once ended. Techno. 
With classical eight-year music training on the cello, pubescent excursions into New Wave music, everything followed a logic at the end of the 90s. Techno.

¡Shpiln di griln tantsn di vantsn!
Die Leere diverser Corona-Lockdowns machte Focke zum Fockmaster. Musikalisch probierte er sich stilistisch divers aus, um am Ende dorthin zu gelangen, wo alles einst endete. Techno. 
Mit klassischer achtjähriger Musikausbildung am Violoncello, pubertären Ausflügen in die New Wave Musik folgte Ende der 90er Jahre alles einer Logik. Techno.

Such Like A Shame

FOCKMASTER