You Left It

Floating

MK 37

Chanson _ Shadow, le Warg des Brumes

Pine & Snow is a quiet, poetic ballad about an old man and the woman he never forgot. Now entirely alone in his city, he looks back on the winter they shared — a time of pine-scented scarves, snow-covered streets, and a love he left behind. He took a different road, chasing something louder, brighter — and lost her in the process. In the stillness of memory, he carries her in silence. Pine & Snow tells the story of a life shaped by one quiet decision at a crossroads, where he turned away from the one thing that felt real.

Pine & Snow ist eine leise, poetische Ballade über einen alten Mann und die Frau, die er nie vergessen hat. Mittlerweile ganz allein in seiner Stadt blickt er zurück auf den Winter, den sie einst teilten – mit dem Duft von Kiefern, tanzendem Schnee und einer Liebe, die er hinter sich ließ. Damals bog er an einer Kreuzung falsch ab, auf der Suche nach etwas Lauterem, Hellerem – und verlor dabei das, was echt war. Heute lebt sie weiter in seiner Erinnerung, in seinem Schweigen. Pine & Snow erzählt von einem Leben, das durch eine leise Entscheidung geprägt wurde – und von einer verpassten Chance, die nie ganz vergeht.

Pine and Snow

He waits at the bench by the corner store
Same coat, same shoes, same view of the floor
Hands like maps that lost their way
Eyes on clouds he used to chase

They say he’s no one, just passing through
Just one more ghost the city grew
But he holds a picture no one sees
Tucked behind his old IDs

She was wild like the northern sea
Laughed through the wind like it set her free
He never told the world her name
But he still hears her voice in the pouring rain
…like the sea that doesn’t rest
She was wind, and pine, and breath
He told no one
But his silence still carries her song

She wore a scarf that smelled of pine
They danced through snow and borrowed time
Then he left to chase a louder light
And she stayed - where the stars burned white

Now no one calls, and no one asks
He’s learned to speak through smaller tasks
Like folding napkins at Café Lorraine
Or counting buses in the rain

She was real, more real than this
More than the soup, the chair, the mist
He never told the world her name
But her shadow still waits by the morning train
…like the sea that doesn’t rest
She was wind, and pine, and breath
He told no one

So if you see him stare too long
At something gone, at a silent song
He’s not lost, not quite unseen
He’s just watching where she’s been

Pine & Snow

The darkness creeps in slowly,  
and seeps through the windows coldly.  
I toss another log into the fire’s call.  
The table and the dresser,  
All the things we used to treasure,  
Fade to fleeting shadows on the wall.  
 
Our dreams of yesterday  
Turn somber, slip away.  
Everything’s got its time, its rise, its fall.  
We planned to build our towers,  
But the wreckers took our hours.  
Now our dreams are just shadows on the wall.  
Now our dreams are just shadows on the wall.  
 
With organ chords now playing,  
The prelude to decaying—  
It’s fine, love’s a fire after all.  
From courtship’s sweet illusion  
To courtroom-like conclusions,  
Love becomes a shadow on the wall.  
 
Our dreams of yesterday  
Turn somber, slip away.  
Everything’s got its time, its rise, its fall.  
We planned to build our towers,  
But the wreckers took our hours.  
Now our dreams are just shadows on the wall.  
Now our dreams are just shadows on the wall.  
 
Draped in black or dressed in white,  
Through the convoy or the night,  
We wonder how much longer this will all endure.  
Living reckless, upside down,  
Till the casket comes around—  
Life itself is just a shadow on the wall.  
 
The darkness creeps in slowly,  
Seeping through the windows coldly.  
I toss another coal into the fire’s call.  
My hands and feet surrender,  
To maps they once remembered—  
Tracing fleeting shadows on the wall.  
The world itself’s a shadow on the wall,  
A flickering shadow on the wall.  
A flickering shadow on the wall.  

The Wreckers

100 Year Song

Babe, sorry I called you up
Have reason enough to stop think think thinking so fucking much
I’m a huge idiot - I like bad stuff
Like the bathroom flood reaching the hotel hall
When Your open truck Wasn’t  even robbed  
Sometimes I want to turn it up
Sometimes I want to turn it off
Babe, sorry I called you up 
Jen told me to walk it off
And  I think think think
You know enough 
To spell out love but
my minds made up of
bathroom floods
Teardrop playing so loud
And you hadnt 
even heard that one before   
Sometimes I want to turn it up
Sometimes I want to turn it off

the bathroom flood

Warm acoustic ensembles blending Mediterranean and Hebrew folk motifs with Western chamber jazz harmony. That's a mouthful- and by design... a pleasant EARFUL too! Enjoy :)

Psalm 119 CHET

Letters I Never Sent (1)

Where are you tonight?
I wanna be there too, if you’d like
You’re probably sitting on the boulder 
taking pictures of the sky - 
the way she looks at you, like I need to
Tonight 

Where are you tonight?
Probably somewhere in the desert 
dancing barefoot in the silence 
Come on, take a picture 
Let me get in the frame
Babe, fuck the fame
Let me pull another string 
On you

I wanna where you like a shroud
Wrap you around my skin
But the best that I’ve got 
Is a pillow and some pot
And the thought that I’ll see you 
again and again and again
Sometime

Wherever you go tonight,
Don’t forget the picture of your smile
Take another of your bare naked skin to send to me
No, don’t forget the star
Stuck on your nether parts 
Just let me in

T’es où, ce soir ?
Qu’on puisse être ensemble 
Les étoiles, elles te regardent
Comme je te veux, oui toi -
Je dis bonsoir 
Les cieux, ils parlent pour moi - 
Pourquoi?

Tu sais - il y a des choses que je ne peut pas dire dans ma langue
Que ni l’anglais ni le français peuvent vraiment dire exprès 
Mais voilà
J’essaie

Prends la photo, prends la photo, prends la photo
Prends la photo, pour moi

Tu me manques 
Que tu me manques

J’attend ta voix

Au revoir

prends la photo

NEW NEW EVERYTHING IS NEW

.

OLD

Ask T.S. Brooks, and he'll say his music lies halfway between the city
and the country. But he admits to the casual listener it could come
across as none of that. Nevertheless he straddles two extremes - that
of the noise of anonymity, and the soothing flow of isolation.

Admittedly influenced by artists such as Townes Van Zandt, Neil Young, and Lou Reed, Brooks paints pictures that allow the listener to bask
in the light of detachment; in a place where you can hear yourself
listening.

100 Year Song

Sean Brooks & Cloud Types

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