An AI-assisted song, my first experiment using Suno

Ignored

My first experiment with AI-assisted songs, trying out Suno

Don't You Have A Job

the lyrics of this song come from a markov chain formed from a low-resolution digitalization of the first eight chapters of M.F.K. Fisher's "How To Cook A Wolf." 
You can find the code project at https://glitch.com/~how-to-cook-a-wolf

the lyrics:
add this liaison slowly to the real 
many years ago; that it will 
let boil slowly until
it was good bread, and you will
ring over all

split open and toasted, 
for tea. tea? who
drinks tea anymore? 
it used to
i could happily 
forego that too

many years ago; that it will 
in paul reboux’s nouvelle
time's a local cannery in your well
bills rise and apartments smell
make fuel bills

split open and toasted, 
for tea. tea? who
drinks tea anymore? 
it used to
i could happily 
forego that too

one delicious
is delicious

with a clean napkin or towel
in paul reboux’s nouvelle
some of them take so little
bills rise and apartments smell
and you will

It Will

the lyrics of this song come from a markov chain formed from a low-resolution digitalization of the first eight chapters of M.F.K. Fisher's "How To Cook A Wolf." 
You can find the code project at https://glitch.com/~how-to-cook-a-wolf

the lyrics:
used to buy bread
it was good bread
quite brown. 
these can be said

these can be said
very tender. spread
in each one of the three
separated

Tender

a track from our jam session at home this weekend -- our album will be called "Music In The Time Of Corona"

Bad Romance Acoustic

Quarantine Baby Lullaby

Lyrics:

I'm feeling cold, you're feeling great
Turned up the heat, now you're irate
Windows are closed, we scream indoors
Say it's my fault, I say it's yours

One more minute stuck here and your stupid neck I'll wring
We fought all fucking winter but it's almost fucking spring

The news is bleak, the stakes are high
Lose at capitalism and you will die
want to help out all that's alive
together we are struggling to thrive

We feel helpless against rich folk killing everything
we fought them all fucking winter now it's almost fucking spring

Now that all this is off my chest
There's time to wish that my songs were the best
That little voice, you know the one
makes my life hell, like art wasn't hard enough

I hate the sound of my  voice  but I'll die if I don't sing
fought the urge all fucking winter but it's almost fucking spring
fought myself all fucking winter but it's almost fucking spring
it's time to finally turn a corner and it's almost fucking spring

Music and Lyrics by Mathilde Mouw-Rao

Almost Fucking Spring - demo

Christilde - Drunken Angel

Tilde Mouw is a San Francisco-based singer/songwriter. Her indie-pop songs showcase thought-provoking lyrics. Major influences include Phoebe Bridgers, Robyn, and Neko Case. Her songs often tell a story, drawing audiences in with humor and irony, as she paints a picture with her playful voice.