The Lonely Rain

İngiltere çıkışlı indie/dream folk müzik artisti Young and Dramatic, ‘You’ isimli ilk EPyi 2013’te yayımladı. 
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UK based indie/dream folk music artist Young and Dramatic, appeared with his debut EP ‘You’ in 2013. 

Takip et / Follow: 
youngdramatic.bandcamp.com 
www.facebook.com/youngdramatic

Bandcamp

Young and Dramatic - Never

Have you ever seen a shadow of something out of the corner of your eye?
But you can't really see it, touch it or describe what it is. It's just there, annoying.....but also a little scary..
Is it a guilty conscience? A badly disturbed soul. Your own inadequacy? Or your own or someone else's disappointment?......

Or is it all of these feelings and maybe a few more who appears and manifests itself as a ghost to you? A ghost of a sence........which always seems present......no matter what you do....there is always this echo.....and it is with some anguish that we let the difficult moments in our lives pass in our thoughts.........Hmmmm

Magic guitars left & right; David Dunham; @david-dunhamuser589535203
Superb Poetry/Lyrics, Narration; Peter the Poet; soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Music, mix & production, track image - Seagull: @farout-music-studio
Wonderful voice: Clara Sorace

Ghost of a Sense

Yes, I know you.
I can feel your presence.
I can touch you, smell you.
I see you not by sight of eye
And yet I ken that you are I
That vespered wraith that writhes within
To test my faith, try my sin
Push the bounds to cause offence
A moral, soul thing, ghost of a sense recalls myself, so well defined
Entrenched, walls behind, built so sound of dust that crowned the pity, falling soft amiss,
Deep inside the tears I cry as here I find my self-abyss.

Whispers bringing shadows, filled of secrets therein held,
Memories, morose, piece me still, to wear in time, my wasted face.
And now reside, cast aside, to forge and ever meld,
Of haunting, ringing echoes, that will alone their chime erased.

Ah! But you won't twist me, nor bind me fast, to the sandy doctrines of the misty past,
With its beards and staffs and crinkled testaments.
My future's sprinkled here present with your crass irrelevance and matters not that sat right there,
The blackest chasm in my simpling world so spare,
Where space and time have overspilled the leaking psyche of a crippled mind,
That barely copes, unfulfilled, a crooked, limpid moral health of broken shrines
That hopes to find ....
.......some worthwhile inner self.

I Guess It's Enough

The Holy Knives

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