Young $moggy - Nightmares

Summoning the legendary spirits of the past, TCR now carries the torch for countless artists who shaped the world of Rock, Blues, Funk, and Soul. The Atlanta trio is united by inspiration, energy, grit, and an undying love for one another and the process of creating songs they believe in. Passion leaks with each note into every aspect of their music from the studio to the stage.

Rite on Time 11:22

Savannah's Shoebox

Memoirs of a Garage

What A Crime

Dead In The Head

The Door

Mysteeri

**Title**: "Lost Direction"

**Description**: "Lost Direction" is a powerful ballad that delves into the anguish of loving someone who is far away. The verses capture the sleepless nights and constant yearning for a love that seems unreachable. As the morning comes, the pain persists, highlighting the struggle of being miles apart. The chorus poignantly questions the absence of the beloved, painting a picture of a life dimmed by their absence. The bridge evokes memories that linger and echoes of a love still sought. The final verse brings dreams and broken promises to the forefront, with longing eyes searching the skies, hoping to reignite the lost love. The song's emotional depth is underscored by a haunting melody, making it a poignant pop and dance pop track.

Lost Direction

NickJC Better Days Ft Junior Paes

follow-u-down.mp3

Heat welds gum to the sidewalk, lipstick smeared on chrome,
Marquee grins like bad teeth, silk legs on loan,
He sleeps in his car with a guitar and a rearview shrine,
Maps folded on dead ends and a tape deck coughing time.
Streetlight flickers like breath in a drowning lung,
Agent on the corner saying, Kid, you’re too young.
But the mirror shows every unpaid mile,
And the lines all rehearsed like a man on trial.

Headshots pinned like bugs under glass,
Smiles stapled to a future already past.

Welcome to Palm Row, where your name stains tar,
Gold melted down, pawned for a shot of fame.
Each star chaser, another canceled show
Knees split open in the promise glow —
Palm Row.

Cheap motel halo buzzing red and blue,
Perfume masking sweat and last night’s cue.
She paints her mouth like a wound on fire,
Says Hollywood don’t love, it just hires.
Sirens glow on streets slicked hard with sin,
Couple in the diner trading dimes for skin.
Burnt script ash on cracked tile floors,
Smoke slipping out through the back door.

Billboards mock like a final blow,
Looking down on the broken dreams below.

Welcome to Palm Row, where the night chews shine,
Silver screen lies on dotted lines.
Every heartbeat a debt you owe,
And the rent comes due down Palm Row.

Welcome to Palm Row, where angels learn to rust,
Sequins in the gutter, diamonds in dust.
You chase the light till your ribs go cold,
Left out of breath on Palm Row.


Palm Row (Dead End)

The Fire Inside.mp3

Savannah's Shoebox

Tiger County Regulators