Golden rails in the evening light,
Rolling slow through Jánská’s sigh,
Only fifteen kilometers wide —
From heart to heart, just a blink of the sky.

The tram hums a sleepy song,
Winding the hills where dreams belong,
A tiny world between two towns,
A velvet thread I could have found.

But I stay, I wait,
I hold back fate,
Watch the open doors...
And let them close once more...

🎶 Evening tramway to Jablonec —
A perfect moment, as good as it gets.
Rolling faster, silver gleam,
Carrying hope, carrying dreams.
Evening tramway to Jablonec —
A fleeting chance I will forget,
Liberec fades in the gold sunset —
And I just watched it leave... 🎶

Fading wheels sing down the line,
I see the last car slip from time,
I could have flown, I could have tried —
But I stood frozen in my mind.

Behind the glass, the riders fade,
Tiny faces in the shade,
And Jablonec, so close, so near —
Becomes a land I'll never hear.

And I stay, I wait,
I hold back fate,
One tiny step...
I never take.

🎶 Evening tramway to Jablonec —
A perfect moment, as good as it gets.
Rolling faster, silver gleam,
Carrying hope, carrying dreams.
Evening tramway to Jablonec —
A fleeting chance I will forget,
Liberec fades in the gold sunset —
And I just watched it leave... 🎶

Oh, the roads we never tread,
The songs we never sang instead,
The hands we never dared to hold,
The dreams left whispering in the cold...

🎶 Evening tramway to Jablonec —
A perfect moment, a sweet regret.
Rolling faster, silver gleam,
Carrying hope, carrying dreams.
Evening tramway to Jablonec —
A story written in silhouettes,
Liberec fades in the soft sunset —
And I just watched it leave... 🎶

Evening Tramway to Jablonec

She said hi like it meant something
I thought "What does she want from me?"
Pretty eyes, too much grace
I laughed and looked the other way

She asked questions I didn’t hear
I answered like a volunteer
Thought she was bored, just killing time
Didn’t know she was crossing lines

She made me talk, made me feel seen
Asked about my childhood dreams
I thought, "She’s sweet, but not for real..."
But hearts don’t care what fools conceal

Didn’t think she could — but she did
Crawled in slow, then tore off the lid
I thought I knew the game, thought I stood
Above the fall, above the flood
Didn’t think she could break me clean
With half a smile and in-between
I looked away, thought she was bluffin’
Now I sit here asking “How did this happen?”

She took her time, didn’t rush
Read me like a paperback crush
Made me believe I had control
While she was gently digging holes

A thousand texts, a midnight call
A joke I made — she laughed too small
She never said “I’m yours” or “stay”
But somehow, I gave it all anyway

She never promised, never lied
Just made me feel... then stepped aside
Like I was just a warm-up act
In her slow romantic sneak attack

Didn’t think she could — but she did
Built a castle, then closed the lid
Left a note, not even signed
Took my calm and scrambled my mind
Didn’t think she could, not like this
She turned a shrug into a kiss
Then walked away like nothin’ happened
And I sit here asking “How did this happen?”

I thought I was the clever one
Who saw right through the games she'd run
But turns out... she wasn't chasing
She was choosing
Then… erasing

Didn’t think she could — oh God, she did
Tore through me like a breaking bid
Smiled once, and now I'm wrecked
A man unmade by intellect
Didn’t think she’d want to win
But she took my heart and mailed it in
I said “She’s nice, but she’s not my type”
Turns out, heartbreak wears pearls and stripes

Didn’t think...
Didn’t think…
Didn’t think she could.

But she did.

Didn’t Think She Could

Welcome guest – forget the rest
Feel at home – stop the moan
Relax and lean back – enjoy the track

Let the lights dim low, let the worries slide
You’re safe in the rhythm, on this midnight ride
No pressure here, just open skies
We drift in sound, where the silence lies

Every note’s a promise, soft and slow
No rush, no rush—just let it flow
Let your mind be weightless, let your thoughts undress
This is your moment. Nothing less.

Welcome guest – forget the rest
Feel at home – stop the moan
Relax and lean back – enjoy the track
(Breathe it in… you’re right on track)

City fades out, just the stars remain
Beats like whispers calling your name
Close your eyes, you’re not alone
This groove is shelter, this sound’s your home

You don’t need answers,
just this pulse to hold
You don’t need stories,
just the bass—warm and bold
Let it wash through your skin,
let it hum in your bones
Where music begins,
we are never alone

Welcome guest – forget the rest
Feel at home – stop the moan
Relax and lean back – enjoy the track
Just breathe, just be… the music’s got your back

Introduction

Every step I took, I held my breath,
Never stepped on hearts to chase success.
If I shine now, it's not for show —
It’s the light I gave, not the things I owe.

Give give give give give more than take
No need to fake — just give more than take
Give give give give give more than take
That’s who I am, no mask to break.
Give give give give give more than take
Hearts don’t climb by stepping snakes —
Just give... more than take.

You see the title, not the tired nights,
Not the inner wars, not the silent fights.
You think I played the game, cut sharp and cold —
But I held hands, I broke no soul.
Yeah, maybe I’m high, but I’m still small,
Still that jeans shop girl in a mirrored mall.
Still feel the price tags, the shift bell’s chime,
Still giving like I did back in simpler time.

So let them think what they need to see,
But they don’t know what it cost to be me.
I'm not the story they love to paint —
I'm made of mercy, not of saints.

Give give give give give more than take
No need to fake — just give more than take
Give give give give give more than take
Don’t need a throne, don’t need a stake
Give give give give give more than take
Soul can rise without a break —
Just give... more than take.

"For what I wrote… maybe it hurts me
if that’s what people think of me.
But I’m not like that.
I give… rather than take.
I don’t see myself as a careerist…
Just a simple jeans sales girl."

Give give give give give more than take
The real ones feel it — no need to fake
Give give give give give more than take
Simple girl, with soul at stake
Give give give give give more than take
Yeah, just give... more than take

Give More Than Take

Second floor, five a.m., flickers on the ceiling,
Walls hum silence, even shadows lost their meaning.
Curtains closed, no sun to blame,
Head is ringing — always the same.
Room smells like last night’s thoughts,
Drenched in echoes no one bought.
No footsteps, no name to call,
Just the ache and the ticking down the hall.

Was it always like this, or did I let it slip?
Dreams dried up like coffee on my lip.
The minibar’s full, the heart is not,
And the mirror forgot the face it forgot.

Pillow as a prison
Waking up without a reason
There is no point to get out of bed
Just keep laying and existing instead
No sunrise ever knocks on this door
Life got lost on the second floor

Cracks in the ceiling draw maps of nowhere,
Tried to follow, but there's nothing there.
The headache’s not pain, it’s a voice —
Saying even the void didn’t give me a choice.
The phone glows once, then fades again,
Another ghost, another end.
No messages, no fights to mend,
Just stillness playing pretend.

"I used to move, I used to feel..."
"Now I just float beneath what’s real..."

Pillow as a prison
Waking up without a reason
There is no point to get out of bed
Just keep laying and existing instead
My heartbeat’s slow, my time is mine
But freedom don’t mean a thing in decline

Pillow as a Prison

It’s 10:04, I checked the clock again,
One hand moves, while I remain.
Empty chairs and silver spoons,
Muted echoes in this quiet saloon.
The tiles still smell of yesterday’s bread,
But no one’s here, just me instead.
An older woman gave this glass,
Coca Cola fizzing like the past.
She vanished to the desk again,
One eye watching like I might offend.

Every tick is mercyless,
This hour won’t stop to care or guess.
I’m the only soul at this morning show,
Sipping silence, letting go.

And I sip on my cola drink — let my thoughts sink —
Why am I feeling sad, and what is this life about?
How to find out? How to find out?
And I sip on my cola drink — as the minutes blink —
Will this moment matter, or will it just burn out?
How to find out? How to find out?

The labels are in a foreign script,
And I can’t ask what I’ve just sipped.
The floor is clean, the light is soft,
Yet something heavy won’t come off.
Behind the glass, she checks the phone,
I wonder if she feels alone.
I think of all the things I’ve lost,
And how each joy has had its cost.
This taste, this place, this quiet bar,
Will fade like faces in a passing car.

No trumpet sounds, no final clue,
Just time that swallows me and you.
Each weekday morning looks the same,
But none of them will get a name.

And I sip on my cola drink — let my thoughts sink —
Why am I feeling sad, and what is this life about?
How to find out? How to find out?
And I sip on my cola drink — as the minutes blink —
Will this moment matter, or will it just burn out?
How to find out? How to find out?

9:00 was a second ago,
11:00 is breathing down my neck.
Days fold like napkins,
Weeks vanish like steam.
And one day, this room will be dust,
And I won’t even know what I forgot.

And I sip on my cola drink — let my thoughts sink —
Why am I feeling sad, and what is this life about?
How to find out? How to find out?
And I sip on my cola drink — as the world shrinks —
No one will remember, not even me — no doubt.
How to find out? How to find out?

Coca Cola

Midnight on the dashboard glow
Empty streets, nowhere to go
Heart’s a map with no clear sign
Just the hum of tires and wasted time
Pulled to the curb where memories burn
A flash of heat, a cold return
Sky breaks open, crying loud
Heavy drops like a ghosted crowd

And the radio bleeds, just my luck
Tony’s voice like a haunting touch
"Another sad love song"... oh God—
Right when I thought I’d had enough

Rain on the roof — boom boom boom
Tears in the beat — doom doom doom
Sad love song — all too soon
Can't dance this feeling out the room

Windows fog like breath on glass
Clock hands tick but never pass
Thought I was numb, but I still feel
Every chorus cutting real
Echoes echo what I hide
Lonely's louder from inside
The night’s a mirror, cracked and wide
I’m just the shadow in the driver's side

And the world don’t pause, it spins and stings
While the saddest song just softly rings
She’s gone, I’m here, and this heart sings—
But only in minor keys

Rain on the roof — boom boom boom
Tears in the beat — doom doom doom
Sad love song — all too soon
Can't dance this feeling out the room

I didn’t ask the sky to weep
Didn’t ask the song to cut so deep
But here I am, a broken beat
In a world that won’t skip, won’t repeat

Rain on the roof — boom boom boom
Tears in the beat — doom doom doom
Sad love song — all too soon
Can't dance this feeling out the room

Another Sad Jazz Song

From space, we shine.
But down here?
It’s a different rhyme.

From a distance, blue and bright
Our world glows in satellite light
Clouds like whispers, oceans calm
But truth is hidden in the charm

We build, we burn, then build again
We love, we lose, repeat the pain
Sing for peace with hands in fists
Kiss the sky, then drop the mist

Zoom into the quiet field —
Where dreams are born but truth won’t yield
A flower blooms, a shadow bites
We dance beneath the neon lights

🔥 What do you say? 🔥
Is this heaven or is it hell?
Is it paradise or just a shell?
What do you say?
We keep moving through the fight
Still the sunset feels so right

🌴 What do you say? 🌴
Can peace survive a fragile skin?
When all it takes is noise to win
What do you say?
Are we dancing in our graves?
Or planting seeds in tidal waves?

A breeze rolls off a Naples shore
A perfect view, we still want more
A garden safe behind the fence
But time don’t care for innocence

One siren breaks the evening song
One breath, and everything feels wrong
The child plays beneath the flame
Still learning how to spell his name

So zoom in close, look past the gloss
Where every gain comes with a loss
A mango sweet, a bullet loud
A love that hurts, a crying crowd

🔥 What do you say? 🔥
Is this heaven or is it hell?
Is it paradise or just a shell?
What do you say?
We keep moving through the fight
Still the sunset feels so right

🌴 What do you say? 🌴
Can peace survive a fragile skin?
When all it takes is noise to win
What do you say?
Are we dancing in our graves?
Or planting seeds in tidal waves?

Tell me now…
Is love defense or sweet disguise?
Are we just lucky when we’re kind?
The tiger hunts — and we survive
But what’s the cost to feel alive?

(Ohhh-oh-ohh)
Dancing in firelight,
(Yeah-eh-yeah)
Tears in the strobe night
(Ohhh-oh-ohh)
Truth in the bassline
(Yeah-eh-yeah)
What do you say now?

🔥 What do you say? 🔥
Is this heaven or is it hell?
Is it paradise or just a shell?
What do you say?
We keep moving through the fight
Still the sunset feels so right

🌴 What do you say? 🌴
Can peace survive a fragile skin?
When all it takes is noise to win
What do you say?
Are we dancing in our graves?
Or planting seeds in tidal waves?

[Outro – Echo & Fade]
Maybe it’s both — curse and grace
A cruel kiss in a perfect place
A fragile joy that slips away...
What do you say?

What Do You Say? (Tropical House Version)

Train a-rollin’… rollin’… gone.
You left me in silence… silence… silence…

Choo! Choo! — Train is ridin’...
(Ridin’… ridin’…)
Passengers — keep on hidin’...
(Hide… hide…)
Left me — no goodbye...
(Why… why…)
No word. No face. No reason why.

Choo! Choo! — Through mi chest…
(Through… through… chest…)
Silence cut — no rest, no rest.
(Rest… no rest… no rest…)
Neon ghosts — in riddim light,
Dancin’ in mi soul tonight…

Mi nah miss you —
Mi miss the light.
The way the world did feel so right.

Rush of love, gone too soon —
You disappear like midnight moon.

Slipped away... dew on leaf —
Mi memory still thief mi peace.

Every riddim, every drop —
Bring you back. Mi cyaan stop.

(Blade with velvet guts... echo on loop)
(Tear in the dark... dark... dark...)

Choo! Choo! — Train is glidin’...
(Gone… gone… gone…)
No goodbye… just the ridin’.
Steam through heart — cold and bright,
You left your ghost — and took the light.

You think of me when kettle cry?
Steam rise up and memory fly?

You happy now, or feel mi weight?
You gone ahead — but mi still wait.

New smile here, new face near —
But dem cyaan reach mi atmosphere.

Not beggin’ you to come again —
Just want di feel...
before di pain.

"Life... is a train ride."
(Ride... ride...)
"Some sit close. Some vanish wide."
(Gone... gone...)
"Some wave from far, and some...
never real at all."
(Never real… real… real…)

Choo! Choo! — heart still beatin’,
Riddim deep — soul repeatin’.
No goodbye — no destination,
You gone — just vibration.

Choo! Choo! — sound still plays,
Ghosts still whine in smoky haze.
Choo! Choo!... train inside,
Mi ride alone...
till pain subside.

(...subside...side...ride...)

Choo! Choo! (Dub Version)

Sometimes I wish I could freeze the sky,
That sweet second when you caught my eye.
Hold it like breath in a midnight breeze,
A heartbeat wrapped in velvet ease.

But then I crave the rush, the blur,
To skip the ache, the weighted slur.
Push the night like a dancer’s spin,
Chasing sparks on trembling skin.

But what if joy is soft and small,
Waiting quiet behind it all?
Would we race and pass it by,
Missing gold while reaching high?

Stop... go... slow it down,
Feel the clave in this town.
Life’s a rhythm, not a line—
Fast-forward... rewind.
Stop... go... close your eyes,
Let the moment hypnotize.
We don’t skip, we don’t rewind—
We just dance in time.

What’s the cost of skipping rain,
If love’s the flower fed by pain?
A whisper laced in trumpet cries,
A silver thread in stormy skies.

If life was smooth, would we still sway,
Or sleepwalk through the notes each day?
It’s contrast that makes it shine—
The ups, the downs, the steep incline.

Would you trade the fire for ease,
The stormy night for quiet seas?
Or would you let the record spin,
Every crack, each song within?

Stop... go... slow it down,
Feel the beat, hear the sound.
Life’s a bolero, not a line—
Fast-forward... rewind.
Pause… play… taste the rhyme,
Catch the heart between the time.
We don’t rush, we realign—
We just dance in time.

Let the shadows glide, let the maracas hum,
Grace in the groove, where the wild things come.
Maybe the magic lives unseen—
In that paused breath, the in-between.

🎶 Fast-forward... rewind...
Fast-forward... rewind...
Baila con el tiempo… con el alma… sin prisa... 🎶



Fast-Forward, Rewind (Latin Jazz Version)

No chase, no games, I’m done with that
Heart on chill, I like where I’m at
Dim the lights, pour the wine
If it’s real, it comes in time

No texts, no double taps
No decoding love from zodiac apps
I’m not lost, I’m just free
If you want me, you know where I’ll be

I won’t beg, I won’t plead
Don’t need love on dirty knees
If it burns, let it fade
I’m not here to be remade

🔥 You can’t force love — it don’t obey
It don’t arrive ‘cause you begged it to stay
I’m at home, looking fine, feeling lit
If you want me, baby, come commit!
I’ll open the door — no push, no shove
Come correct if you call it love 🔥

I dance alone in my own glow
Don’t need a plus-one to steal the show
No more wishes on falling stars
Just good music and unlocked hearts

Yeah I’m rare, like Friday night peace
Don’t mistake silence for a heart on lease
I’m not hiding, I’m just high
On life, on vibes, on my own supply

🔥 You can’t force love — it don’t obey
It don’t arrive ‘cause you begged it to stay
I’m at home, looking fine, feeling lit
If you want me, baby, come commit!
I’ll open the door — no push, no shove
Come correct if you call it love 🔥

Can't Force Love (Deep House Version)

Johnny lit a match, then watched it burn,
Told her "Leave"—like she'd ever learn.
She wore his bruises like perfume sweet,
Still danced in chains, still kissed his feet.

Polite new man with polished shoes,
Family rich, no midnight blues.
A house, a pool, a perfect frame—
But in her heart, just Johnny's name.

She called him trembling, veil in hand,
"Say the word, and I won't stand..."
And all Johnny said was “Marry him.”
A whisper thin as phantom limb.

One-way love, screws the mind,
Always leaves one far behind.
You give it all, they give you none—
But still you chase that dying sun.
Oh-oh, one-way love…
It’s never fair, it’s never done.
One-way love…
The cruelest game we never won.

Twenty-five years later, her diamonds shine,
But shadows sip her vintage wine.
She smiles, but not with her soul,
Still hearing Johnny's final toll.

Johnny sleeps in grey, in state-lit gloom,
Loves a woman who clears the room.
She spits on him, he begs for more—
The echoes of his life before.

He once was fire, cruel and bold,
Now just a man who’s growing old.
And still that ache, it pulls him down,
Same old circus, different town.

One-way love, screws the mind,
Always leaves one far behind.
You give it all, they give you none—
But still you chase that dying sun.
Oh-oh, one-way love…
It’s never fair, it’s never done.
One-way love…
The cruelest game we never won.

Isn’t it strange, isn’t it mad,
How we crave the love we never had?
The heart don’t care, it’s blind and loud—
Falls for silence, stands in crowds.

[Final Chorus – Stronger beat]
One-way love, it leaves a mark,
A silent scream, a fading spark.
You give and give, until you're gone—
Still dreaming of the only one.
Oh-oh, one-way love…
It’s never fair, it’s never done.
One-way love…
The cruelest game we never won.

[Outro – fading, melancholic]
And round it goes, again, again…
A perfect loss in lovers’ chain.
One-way… love.

One-Way Love (Deep House Version)

My name is Isidor Emil.
I stood in goal with grit and steel.
A keeper born in Vienna’s core,
Behind the posts I knew the score.
They called me Johann in the news —
A name I never got to choose.
But I was there when boots were torn,
In Leopoldstadt, where I was born.
A keeper with the oldest team —
First Vienna — my boyhood dream.

In 1910, I wore the crest,
Austrian cap upon my chest.
Budapest, we lost that day —
Three goals slipped in and blew away.
And when the league began its race,
They found a younger keeper’s face.
Steinbrecher took the number one.
And I, again, was someone done.

 I was replaced — and still I stayed,
Through rain and cold, through night and day.
I wore the gloves with hands gone raw,
I knew the rules, I loved the law.
I was replaced — but I remained,
In every match, my heart unchained.
No crowd remembers, no one swore.
But I was there.
I was Isidor. 

WAF came calling, needing grace —
Their first choice fell out of the race.
They wanted Otto Noll from Prague,
But he refused — and so I jogged
into the goal. I played my part.
They let me in. I gave my heart.
But Leopold Bode came next year.
They said, “He’s young.” I disappeared.

Still with the club, I stayed on ground.
In reserve teams, I hung around.
I worked by day, a banking clerk,
By night I blew my whistle — work.
And when WAF began to fall,
No one was left. I gave my all.
I built it back in Brigittenau,
It stands today — though few know how.

I was replaced — but I endured,
With boots unlaced and spirit pure.
Two times a keeper shown the door,
But always there to love it more.
I was replaced — but never gone,
From muddy fields to breaking dawn.
I left no trophies to adore.
But I was there.
I was Isidor. 

Then came the men — not boots, not ball.
No whistle, badge, no game at all.
Just lists and numbers, trains and fear.
They crossed my name.
They made me disappear.
No chants. No crowd. No final score.
Just Minsk. A forest. Nothing more.

I was replaced — again, again.)
But still I stood. And stood like men.
No medals left, no lights, no lore.
Just gloves. And mud.
I was Isidor.

I Was Isidor

I opened the door — did I even think?
Of stories carved in every link?
Or was I just cold, or tired, or numb,
Dreaming of silence, a bed to succumb?
A nice old carpet, soft and proud,
Long halls where whispers aren’t too loud.
Each door I passed could hold a tale,
But only silence marked the trail.

No footsteps, no voices, no clinking plates,
Just time standing still behind the gates.
Born in peace, yet built on ash —
You breathed in slow, with quiet flash.

🎶 1922 — and winter’s at the door,
He doesn’t knock, he’s heard before.
With leaves still clinging, cold and thin,
And something strange beneath the skin.
1922 — I felt your spine,
Old wooden bones in fading shine.
I came for sleep, I stayed for lore —
1922, with winter at the door. 🎶

Rapallo ink still wet with trust,
And Walther fell into the dust.
Insulin saved, the Irish cried,
While quiet hands built you with pride.
Mussolini rose, raw goods ran dry,
But still you reached toward the sky.
Brick by brick, you took your stand,
A shelter shaped by human hand.

What did I want? A pillow, a prayer?
Just steam on glass and cleaner air?
But I found a century dressed in dust,
And walls that whisper: “feel, don’t trust.”

🎶 1922 — and winter’s at the door,
He waits like he has waited before.
A suitcase packed with frost and light,
And stories hidden from the night.
1922 — you held me tight,
Through autumn’s end and morning white.
And when I left, I knew much more —
1922, with winter at the door. 🎶

It was a sunny morning. But cold.
He stood there.
Winter.
Not unkind. Not loud.
With surprises in his bag.
But spring came,
and one by one...
they melted.
And in the summer… they were gone.

1922 (Deep House Version)

I was there...
Vienna. Nußwaldgasse.
A small room, a narrow bed,
and silence — so thick you’d choke if you tried to breathe it.
Dust floated like memories refusing to settle.
And in the center of it all:
Karl Pekarna.
Not broken. Just… slowed.
But his eyes — they still moved like keepers do.
Fast. Sharp. Remembering everything.

He flew once — high and far,
From Vienna to Glasgow, chasing a star.
First football legionnaire from the European mainland,
A goalkeeper of steel with velvet hands.
They called my name in foreign tongues,
Between the chants, between the drums.
I caught the world in leather palms,
And held the line with quiet psalms.

🎵 Over the lines, through wind and rain,
First from the mainland, crossing the lane.
The football legionnaire, blazing the way,
But glory fades — and skies turn gray.
They cheered my name, they wrote it in gold,
Now I grow quiet, now I grow old.
Still I breathe, still I burn,
Still I wait for one return...
Still I wait... 🎵

Some came to visit, from Vienna, the Sportclub…
Even boys too young to have seen me play.
They remembered.
But not Slovan.
I gave them my last match. They gave me nothing.
Still —
I smiled.
Because the game gave me more than it took.
Most days.

My right leg walks. My left hand won’t.
But my eyes still scan the pitch, still count.
The war came late, the bombs came loud,
And I sat through it all, proud in the crowd.

🎵 Over the lines, through wind and rain,
First from the mainland, crossing the lane.
The football legionnaire, blazing the way,
But glory fades — and skies turn gray.
They cheered my name, they wrote it in gold,
Now I grow quiet, now I grow old.
Still I breathe, still I burn,
Still I wait for one return...
Still I wait... 🎵

When winter came, it took its toll,
No fire, no food, no healing soul.
He sat alone in war-torn stone,
A king without a crown, a house, a throne.
On January’s twenty-third, the silence won —
And Karl went out like a setting sun.
Not with thunder, not with light,
But like a keeper in the fading night.

🎵 Still I breathe, still I burn,
Still I wait for one return...
Still I wait... 🎵

Karl Pekarna (Deep House)

Yah mi tell yuh, not every beat bring joy
Some rhythm sweet, but ah only destroy
It nah ‘bout di man, nah ‘bout di name
Mi heart remember... just di flame!

Wake up slow — screen full a grey
Dreams mi never choose comin’ anyway
Inbox full a what mi neva write
Outside di tree a dance, but it nah feel right

Mi sip mi coffee, bitter an’ cold
Fake a smile, but mi soul nah bold
Di world a spin — mi stay in place
Trapped in a vibe mi cyaah replace

🎶 It’s di rhythm before di pain —
Soft like di whisper in di rain
Nah miss di boy, nah miss di spark —
Mi miss di beat before it gone dark
Oh-oh, rhythm before di pain
Still echo inna mi brain
When love did wild an’ plain —
Yeah, di rhythm before di pain 🎶

Clock hands tap like dem playin’ drum
Mi heart mute like it gone numb
Meetings dry like paper glass
Still mi chase a rhythm from di past

Dem seh it nah him mi miss fi true
A di fire ‘fore di wave crash through
Before di heartbreak buss mi calm
Every look was sweet and warm

🎶 Di rhythm before di pain —
Like thunder low behind di rain
Nah need di touch, or memory game
Mi just waan di groove — not di name
It spin, spin, spin again —
Di rhythm before... before di pain 🎶

Mi tink seh mi miss him —
But mi wrong...
It’s not di lips, not di touch...
Mi miss how di riddim did run.

🎶 Say pain! (PAIN!)
Say rhythm! (RIDDIM!)
Who feel it know it, deep inna di system
It nah di man — it’s di flame dat remain
Still movin’ inna rain...
To di rhythm before di pain 🎶

Di Rhythm Before di Pain (Ragga Version)

He filled the form in blue and neat,
Declared his love in twelve-point sheet.
Box 5: “Are feelings genuine?”
He answered, “Once. In 2010.”
A passport photo, slightly sad,
Was glued on backwards by his dad.
They asked for proof he’d kissed before —
He sent a screenshot. Nothing more.

A smirkless clerk with trembling jaw
Said: “Section 9? Emotional flaw.”
He sighed, rewrote his dating past —
But autocorrect turned “lust” to “last.”
“Return with joy,” the note had read —
He brought a dog meme in its stead.

Application for Love 
Filed with care and mild caffeine.
Declared I once had butterflies —
They’re gone now. Ate them with some fries.
Application for Love (Form B-13),
I clicked ‘submit’ — it stayed unseen.
They said I failed the hugging test —
My arms were tense. I did my best. 🎵

They asked for tears in ink or pen,
He mailed a note: “I cried back then.”
They sent it back with sticky note:
“Tears must be recent, fresh, and float.”
His neighbor said: “Just fake some joy.”
So he applied with a dancing toy.
The rubber stamp said: “Seems unstable.”
They filed his heart beneath the table.

A pigeon came with Form C-3:
“Do you deserve affinity?”
He checked “Unsure,” then changed his mind —
Then spilled his tea on “Love Declined.”

Application for Love 
They asked for dreams, I sent a meme.
I brought my hope in bubble wrap —
They burst it. Said: “Too much gap.”
Application for Love (Form B-13),
It jammed the state machine.
Now all my mail is marked “Too late” —
They’ve outsourced love to Section 8. 🎵

Final line reads:
“Love is postponed.
Your file is safe.
In storage.
Zone: Unknown.”

Application for Love (Deep House Version)

You placed me gently on the tray,
Said “Just a minute” — then slipped away.
The oven hummed a lullaby,
While sugar dreams began to fry.

I rose for you — soft, round, and proud,
Till smoke replaced the cocoa cloud.
You missed the timer’s subtle plea,
Now I’m a love lost to pastry.

Scent of longing, spice and ash,
Heat that made the sweetness crash.
No gentle breeze, no saving grace —
Just fire dancing in my place.

🎵 Baked with love — but left too long,
Turned my song into a smoky song.
Cracks of sugar, lips once kissed,
Now I crumble in a cloud of mist.
You were gone, and I stayed brave —
Till sirens cooled what heat I gave.
And all that’s left? A quiet plate —
Of love that didn’t marinate. 🎵

You peeked in once — then turned away,
While butter sighed in soft decay.
A cookie waits, it does not cry...
But midnight knows when lovers lie.

They came with hoses and flashing light...
But darling, it wasn’t a fire to fight.
It was a recipe, left unread —
A warm goodbye in crusty bread.

🎵 Baked with love — and sweet mistake,
Too hot to hold, too slow to break.
I rose for joy, I browned for care,
But no one told you I was there.
So let me fade like kitchen steam,
A cookie scorched from love’s soft dream.
You’ll taste me still — in songs, in sighs,
Where every oven holds goodbyes. 🎵

Baked with Love (Latin Jazz)

Sliding slow on a beat so sleek,
Velvet vibes and a tongue-in-cheek.
No rescue ride, no lifeboat kiss,
Just a solo sway in a sea of bliss.

Secrets ride on the back of funk,
Tears dried up in a disco trunk.
Sun’s on lunch, moon’s half awake —
But I float fine on this heartache lake.

Every ripple writes my song,
Every silence grooves me strong.
Don’t need light, don’t need a name —
I carved my soul in this midnight game.

🎵 Let me slide, let me glide,
On this airbed, I confide.
No fix, no fake, just silky shake —
I groove through pain like it’s a piece of cake.
Not drowning — just on beat,
Dancing heartbreak on repeat.
Let me float, let me play —
In this velvet, woozy sway. 🎵

No SOS, no tender calls,
Just me and these bassline walls.
I whisper truths the crowd can’t hear,
On this mirrorball frontier.

No pity please, no savior stuff,
Your drama’s cute, but not enough.
Where fear once lived, I built a jam —
I groove alone — that’s who I am.

Night hums sweet like sugar strings,
And my lonely feet wear golden wings.
No need to chase, no need to mend —
I dance it out until the end.

🎵 Let me slide, let me glide,
On this airbed, I confide.
No fix, no fake, just silky shake —
I groove through pain like it’s a piece of cake.
Not drowning — just on beat,
Dancing heartbreak on repeat.
Let me float, let me play —
In this velvet, woozy sway. 🎵

Floatin' solo, smile in place,
Heart on fire... but slow in pace.
Touch that ache, make it shine —
Turn your sorrow into wine.

🎵 Let me float, let me spin,
In this groove beneath my skin.
This isn’t lost, this is the art —
Of moving through a broken heart.
No save required, just feel the heat,
My heartbreak dances on its feet.
Let me float, let me sway —
Night’s too sweet to drift away. 🎵



Velvet Float

Slide...
Slow...
A hum in the hollow.
No call. No follow.
(follow... low... low...)

Sliding slow — like smoke on skin,
Bassline breathes where thoughts begin.
No rescue rope, no coded flare —
Just drift and drift... like I don’t care. (care... care...)

Secrets sleep in tape delay,
Funk got lost, then washed away.
Moon’s not here, sun’s on break —
I float fine on this... heartache lake. (ache... ache...)

Pause the frame — let silence spin...
(tape-stop)
Let the echo in...
(in... in... in...)

🎵 Let me slide (slide...)
Let me glide (glide...)
Weightless on this bassline tide.
No fix, no shape — just a dub escape,
I groove through pain like it’s half-awake. (echo: awake... wake...)
Not drownin’ — just deep in sound,
A heartbeat lost — now gently found.
Let me float...
Let me float... (float... float...)
In this velvet, low-end boat. 🎵

No sirens scream, no help inbound,
Just me and this skankin’ sound.
Truth whispered through the spring reverb —
A rhythm’s ache I won’t disturb.

No pity dance, no savior choir,
Your drama fizzles in my wire.
Where fear once knocked — I dropped a beat,
And watched it melt beneath my feet. (feet... feet...)

Night bends low in sugar breath,
Soft dub steps away from death.
No need to fix, no rules to bend —
This version loops until the end. 

🎵 Let me slide...
Let me glide...
This bassline’s got no place to hide.
No fix, no fate — just deep escape,
I skank through sorrow, half awake. (awake... awake...)
Not drownin’, nah — just movin’ through,
My heartbreak’s got a groove or two.
Let me float...
Let me float...
This night’s too sweet to mute. 🎵

Let it echo...
Let it breathe...
(Just leave space... don’t leave grief...)
(breathe... leave... fade...)

Let Me Slide


Two old hearts in a café spin,
She leans close, he leans back in.
She says, “Begin,” he lights a smoke,
Blows it out like it’s a joke.
She walks slow, like rhythm knows,
He plays cool in silent prose.
She says, “Try,” with half a grin,
He says, “Darling... I’ve already been.”

Are they dancing? Are they stalling?
Is it love or just free falling?
Every glance a tiny crime —
But who’s keeping time?

🎶 What do you think?
Are they lovers out of sync,
Or just actors on the brink?
Is her smile a melody,
Or just a trick in 3/4 key?
🎶 What do you think?
Are they floating or they stuck?
Is it rhythm or just luck?
Is it fate or one last drink?
Tell me now... what do you think?

Maybe fate forgot the line,
Scribbled notes in cheap red wine.
Maybe life just hums along,
In minor chords that feel like wrong.
She says “stay,” he says “not yet,”
Two steps close, then reset.
He plays jazz, she plays fire —
And both just wait for sweet desire.

Do they mean it or pretend?
Are they sparks or just the end?
Is the kiss a planned retreat,
Or sugar wrapped around defeat?

🎶 What do you think?
Is it fever or finesse,
Do they burn or just undress?
Is it grace, or is it kink?
Tell me soft... what do you think?
🎶 What do you think?
Would you dance if love was slow,
If it hurt, but still would glow?
Would you rise or would you sink —
If it all came down to sync?

They don’t speak, but still they move,
Shadows deep in velvet groove.
One plays night, the other day —
Still they sway... they sway... they sway...

🎶 What do you think?
Are we dancing just to stall,
Or not dancing yet at all?
Do we break or do we blink —
Darling now... what do you think?
🎶 What do you think?
Would you play it one more round,
If the music held no ground?
Is it soul, or just a wink —
Tell me slow… what do you think?

What Do You Think? (Latin Jazz Version)

Two old souls... in a teacup spin,
One says “Start!”... the other says “Begin... again.”
One brings air like mango mist,
The other vanishes — puff — with a twist.
She walks slow... with a barefoot beat,
He adjusts... an imaginary seat.
She says “Try” — like a secret spell,
He shrugs and whispers... “Oh well.”
(tape stop fx)

"Velvet has opinions..."
"Start again... again... again..."

Is it love... or a system glitch? (glitch...)
Do they bounce... or do they twitch? (twitch...)
Smiles like traps... in a candy test —
No one knows... what happens next... (next... next...)

🎶 What do you think? (think… think…)
Are they angels… in disguise,
Or just kettles… full of lies?
Is the soul… a velvet skin,
Or just a rubber mask… we’re dancing in?
🎶 What do you think? (spin… sink…)
Are we gliding… or just stuck?
Is it rhythm… or dumb luck?
Spin that thought — let it blink…
Tell me now… what do you think?

Maybe fate’s a sleepy lizard,
Sitting still with crossword blizzards.
Maybe life’s a moody goat,
Drifting lazy in a velvet coat.
Hands too soft, hearts on mute,
Fate deals silence... in a suit.
One says “Stay” with a plastic spoon,
The other hums an old cartoon.

"He folded the sky like origami."
"Banana logic... infinite zoom..."

Do they care?
Do they fake?
Are we cake…
or just the plate?

🎶 What do you think?
Are we dancers or décor?
Is this floor a metaphor?
Do we blink or play the king?
Dub it out... what do you think?
🎶 What do you think?
Would you swap this groove for peace?
Or keep it rolling… on repeat?
Would you fall or would you wink —
If the beat began... to sink? (sink... sink...)

They don’t talk...
They don’t blink...
One wears moon...
One pours drink.
Time is toast.
Logic's thin.
Still they sway…
With vinyl grin.

🎶 What do you think...?
Are we smooth or just... confused?
Is this real or well-produced?
Do we lead or just parade —
Wrapped in smoke and marmalade?
🎶 What do you think?
Would you still press play again…
If the goat came back… at ten?
Is it art... or just a kink —
Tell me now…
what do you think? (what do you think... what do you think...)

Dubious Affairs

Señor Dulce, vanished soul,
Drifting where the sugar rolls.
Café breath, a glaze parade,
Whispers hum the throne he made.
Señor Dulce, paper crown,
Rules with sprinkles, shuffles down.
But the bite he hid, the golden ring —
Vanished in a mango swing…

(Echoes: swing… swing… dulce king…)

He came with charts in sticky hand,
Shoes that squeaked like samba sand.
Clipboard dreams, a donut plan,
Built a kingdom — flan by flan.
His chair? A throne of vinyl fate.
His pen? A wand that came too late.
He’d sign with flair, he’d swirl his brew —
But never knew just who was who.

He’d say: “Work light… think slow…”
While jelly danced across his polo.
His gospel? “Rest, then blame the rest.”
And rhythm dripped down his sugar vest.

(rest… vest… blessed?)

Señor Dulce, crumbed and bold,
A caramel myth the breakroom told.
One day gone — like flan on fire,
A whisper now… of sugar empire.

(He left no donut unturned…)

Then came the dawn, all wrong, all gray —
The holy glaze had slipped away.
His drawer was bare, the chosen ring
Had vanished — like a dub delay thing.
He stormed. He searched. He sniffed betrayal.
Accused the desk, the fan, the mail.
But no one cracked, no one replied…
Just bossa beats and pastel pride.

He checked the bins, he checked the clock —
The silence sang like a samba shock.
He spun, he wept, he spun again…
But donuts never spoke back then.

(gone… gone… dulce’s dawn…)

Señor Dulce, slipped through time,
Now echoes in this coffee rhyme.
A sugar law, a pastry ghost —
The softest tyrant we loved the most.

(Mister Sweet, we taste your rule… still.)


The Donut Director (Latin Jazz)

He walks the streets with open eyes,
But sees a sky no one recognizes.
Behind his smile, a world unfolds —
Where time forgets, and mirrors hold.

He greets you kind, invites you in,
You dance through thoughts too deep to swim.
But logic fades behind the door —
You’re not in town, not anymore.

6 months... and then the gate will close,
A garden gone where nothing grows.
6 months... inside the hidden part,
You held a map into his heart.
6 months... and then you fade like light,
He turns away — you lose your sight.
6 months... you touched the sun, now fall —
No one stays. He loves, then stalls.

He sketches stars on café napkins,
Speaks of moons that spin like captions.
He’ll say “I trust” — and mean it, too,
But seasons pass, and so do you.

He builds a world you want to keep,
A place between awake and sleep.
But even dreams begin to rust —
He lets you go. He says, “I must.”

6 months... and then the clock rewinds,
You lived inside his tangled mind.
6 months... of magic, glass and thread,
Then nothing’s said. Just ghosts instead.
6 months... a lighthouse in the mist,
One final look... one final kiss.
6 months... the rules are in his head —
You touched a world where angels fled.

"Don’t ask why..."
"Don’t try to stay..."
"It’s just the way... his stars decay."

6 months... it’s always been that way.
He loves in half-years. Then drifts away.
6 months... a clock with secret hands —
You held him once... but never planned.

6 Months (Deep House)

"Fog... glaze... power crumbles..."

He moved like fog through the cardboard maze,
Counting lives in coffee breaks and glaze.
He wore command like a paper coat,
A king of sugar on a sinking boat.

And I, wanna bite in that thing
Soft and warm like a secret king
But when stolen, it’s a broken wing

A mustard stain, a headline read,
While workers bled, he just shook his head.
Glasses down and donut poised,
He ruled in silence, proud and moist.

And I, wanna bite in that thing
Soft and warm like a secret king
But when stolen, it’s a broken wing

One napkin left to guard his pride,
But crumbs don’t lie — they always slide.
He swore by glaze and vending brew,
But vanished fast, like bosses do.

And I, wanna bite in that thing
Soft and warm like a secret king
But when stolen, it’s a broken wing

Now silence lives where orders rang,
No coffee hiss, no pastry slang.
Just echoes sweet of jelly sting —
And I still dream of biting that thing…

Secret King

You walked in like summer sin —
Eyes like fire, dressed in grin.
Told me stories soaked in rum,
Said “You’re the one…” — then you ran dumb.

You kissed my hand like I was gold,
But left me shivering, proud and cold.
You made me fall like songs in June…
Then vanished — like a coward’s tune.

How dare you call it fate, then flee?
How dare you taste, then unlove me?
You stirred a flame, then shut the door —
But darling, I’m not crying anymore…

🎵 Señor del sabor — cómo te atreves, mi amor!
You set my sky on fire, then left it poor.
🎵 You touched like thunder, danced like lore…
You made me queen, then called me “whore.”

🎵 Señor del sabor — don’t look back, no more!
You broke the rose, then begged for more.
🎵 I gave you soul — you asked for war.
Now feel the echo of my roar...

You stood there, torn — eyes unsure,
Said “Forgive me…” with a smile too pure.
But your love was dressed in fake perfume,
It faded fast. It left the room.

And still… your name lives on my tongue,
In every dance, in every song.
But I won’t bleed beneath your charm —
You lost the right to hold this arm.

How dare you haunt my favorite song?
How dare you say you did no wrong?
You call this love? You made it art —
Then framed and sold my beating heart…

🎵 Señor del sabor — cómo te atreves, mi flor!
You stole my bloom, then danced the floor.
🎵 You laughed in love, then slammed the door.
You drank my sun, then asked for more.

🎵 Señor del sabor — I’m not yours anymore.
I gave you truth — you wanted lore.
🎵 Now taste regret, taste what you tore…
Your rhythm’s mine — but never more.

And still… if you touched my face…
Would I break again in your embrace?
God help me — I might fall once more…
But not like before. No, not like before.

🎵 Señor del sabor… hear my war.
🎵 My heart’s not yours to taste — no more.
🎵 I danced for love… now I dance for me.
🎵 And your shadow fades in my melody…

Señor del Sabor (Cómo Te Atreves)

Woke up late, coffee went cold,
Phone screen lit with one line bold.
No “hey,” no “love,” just space between —
“Take care of yourself” on a glowing screen.

Your name — a blank, no face remains.
Your voice — gone quiet in digital veins.
But that line? It's carved, it clings,
Ringing soft like distant strings.

I scroll…
I scroll through air and light.
One sentence stands…
Still too polite.

🎵 The last line — still whispering true,
No dot, no why — just slipped right through.
Like a door left open in the night,
Like a dream that fades before it’s right.

The last line — it holds, it hides,
Just “take care” — no reason, no sides.
You left too smooth, no time to try…
Just a line… and no goodbye. 🎵

I write replies, then hit erase,
No place to send, no face to face.
You didn’t crash me — just made it dim,
Like cutting vocals mid-song trim.

Every rhythm, every tune,
Feels like you walked out too soon.
You're gone in form, but not in tone —
The echo’s mine… I dance alone.

🎵 The last line — still whispering true,
No dot, no why — just slipped right through.
Like a door left open in the night,
Like a dream that fades before it’s right.

The last line — it holds, it hides,
Just “take care” — no reason, no sides.
You left too smooth, no time to try…
Just a line… and no goodbye. 🎵

No punctuation…
No delay.
Just drifted out
And slipped away.

🎵 The last line — I still hear it clear,
Right in the place you disappeared.
You never fought, you didn’t cry —
You just…
Wrote the last line,
And said goodbye. 🎵

The Last Line

Weißt du... das Wochenende... ist so ein... äh... so ein sanftes Trugbild, das sich wie... wie eine warme Decke über diesen kalten Funktionsapparat legt, den wir Leben nennen. Es kommt auf dich zu, wie... wie eine Erlösung, ja, wie... eine Hand aus Licht, die dir sagt: „Jetzt, jetzt darfst du sein.“ Und du willst dich hineinlegen, wie in Watte, oder in ein frühes Kindheitsbad voller Wärme... Aber — aber da, genau da... wenn du gerade anfängst zu tauen, so von innen heraus, wie ein eingefrorener See, in dem wieder Fische schwimmen könnten... da kommt die Zeit. Und sie hat kein Gesicht. Nur Zähne. Und sie beißt zu. Samstagmorgen, Bruder, ist nicht Freiheit, es ist... Pflicht im Freizeitgewand. So ein leiser, dauerpräsenter Druck, dass du was machen musst mit diesen Stunden, sonst war alles umsonst. Und dann... dann kommt der Sonntagabend, Bruder... dieser... Schwellenzustand, wie... wie der Moment zwischen Schlaf und Aufwachen, zwischen Sein und Wieder-Funktionieren-Müssen. Vielleicht... vielleicht ist das wahre Problem gar nicht, dass das Wochenende kurz ist. Sondern dass es verspricht, dich zu heilen. Aber es heilt nichts. Es lullt dich ein — und lässt dich dann wieder los, zurück in den Wahnsinn. Und du dankst ihm auch noch dafür.

Friday hums in a low slow tone,
Sky burns gold like a saxophone.
Drop the weight, step out the frame,
Bassline breathes — no need for name.

—

🎶 Drift drift — let it slide,
Groovy bassline, moon as guide.
Weekend rising like a warm tide,
No rearview, just the rhythm wide.

🎺 Sway sway — in the glow,
Echo trail from head to toe.
Two-day trip, no place to go,
We ride the riddim — sweet and slow. 🎵

—

Saturday wakes in filtered light,
Coffee steam in dub delight.
Heartbeat ticks on vinyl floor,
Time don’t knock, just opens doors.

Supermarket dubstep, neon breeze,
Whispers dance between the teas.
Moments melt like mango skin,
Groove gets under — deep within.

—

🎶 Drift drift — let it slide,
Floating vocals, stereo wide.
Move like water, no need to run,
Sunlight riddim, love begun.

🎺 Sway sway — low and lean,
Clock dissolves in riddim sheen.
Two days gone like dub in smoke,
We laugh, we dance, we never spoke. 🎵

—

Tick-tock twitches in the bassline bend,
Melodica sighs — no start, no end.
Lay me where the riddim spins,
Let the drop erase my sins.

—

(Filter sweep – riddim flips)
Clock hands wobble in smoked-out bliss,
Conga hits, and time’s dismissed.
Push it soft, then pull it back —
Dub don’t race — it curves the track.

—

🎶 Drift drift — feel it now,
Feet in sand, stars on brow.
Weekend’s not a thing to chase —
It lives in beats and breath and bass.

🎺 Sway sway — let it play,
Let the dub wash out the grey.
Two-day fire, now let it fade —
We danced it real, in echo made. 🎵

—

Just one riddim…
Just one light…
Dub will hold you through the night.

Drift Dub

Du bist Drama wie aus'm Werbespot,
Mit Zitronenblick und Lippenrot.
Wollt dich retten mit 'nem Gute-Laune-Tee,
Doch du schriebst nur „meh“ — Emoji, eh. 😒

Ich war die Lösung in Mangoform,
Doch du? Bist Chaos mit Einhorn-Zorn.
Hab mich verrenkt, hab dich gegoogelt,
Doch dein Herz bleibt ungebootet.

Lief wie Cola ohne Kohlensäure,
Ich dreh mich raus — auf meine Art und Weise.

🎵 Chill Controla — ich tanz aus der Schleife,
Du bist Gewitter, doch ich mach 'ne Seifenblase.
No Drama-Mama, ich bau mir 'ne Oase,
Mit Beats im Blut und 'ner Sonne auf der Nase.

Chill Controla — ich wink, nicht missioniere,
Reg dich ruhig auf — ich dekoriere meine Giraffe.
Bin kein Held für deine Serie,
Ich schalt mich laut — und dich auf leise.

Hab versucht, dein GPS zu sein,
Doch du willst lieber durch’n Nebel schrei’n.
Kaktus küsst sich auch nicht weich,
Ich bleib smooth — du bleibst vergleichsreich.

Ich trag mein Nein jetzt wie ein Kleid,
Und tanz allein — mit Heiterkeit.
Dein Problem? Nicht mein Beruf.
Ich mach Mojitos aus deinem Puff.

Ich will kein Coach, kein Kleber sein,
Kein Pflaster für dein Zeitvertreib-Schrein.
Du drehst im Kreis? Ich dreh den Beat,
Denn Kontrolle schmeckt mir nie als Cheat.

🎵 Chill Controla — ich chill in Banana-Form,
Du bist Tsunami, ich Planschbecken-Norm.
Mit Ananas-Augen, Blick nach vorn,
Ich kontrollier nix — nur meinen Zorn.

Chill Controla

I liked your meme, you hearted mine,
Now we’re texting deep past bedtime.
You sent a frog with laser eyes —
I said “ILY,” you said “no lies.”

My screen time's high, my soul is fried,
But you still made me feel alive.
You said, “You vape?” I said, “Just air.”
We trauma-bonded on a chair.

You Facetuned me into a snack,
Still called me “mid” behind my back.
But girl, your voice on late-night call?
Sounds like a dolphin’s mating squall.

We’re dating through a cracked display,
But babe, I’d ghost the world for Tay.
You said “I’m sad,” I said “same here.”
We cuddle close, then disappear.

🎵 That’s the Zoomer Love — hits you like a kick from God above!
A glitchy kiss, a dopamine shove,
We swipe, we cry, we crash, we laugh —
Existential on each other’s behalf.

🎵 That’s the Zoomer Flame — pixel hearts and password names!
We fight, we vibe, we overshare,
Then post a reel like we don’t care.

Your Spotify’s a walking red flag,
But I still love your TikTok swag.
My heart’s on read, my brain’s on rice,
But dating you? Still kinda nice.

Your horoscope said “love beware,”
But I ignored it ‘cause—your hair.
We trauma-joked and overslept,
Missed all our dreams, but never wept.

Girl: Wait, do you even believe in love?
Boy: Only ironically.
Girl: Ugh, marry me.
Boy: After therapy?
Girl: Deal.
Both: LOL. 😂

🎵 That’s the Zoomer Love — like a glitch that fits the glove!
You call me cringe, I say “no cap,”
But you still snap me in your nap.

🎵 That’s the Gen-Z Curse — in a verse, and kinda worse!
We date through memes and subtle pain,
But I’d still kiss you in the rain.

Girl: If love’s a thread, we’re tangled right.
Boy: If hearts go viral — this feels right.
Both (echoing dreamily):
Zoomer love… Zoomer love…
We laugh, we scroll, we dream… enough. 💕

Zoomer Love

🎧 ZEBRA STRIPES, CONCRETE DREAMS & SCHIMANSKI SWAGGER.

This ain’t a love song. This is a beer-soaked battle hymn from the belly of Duisburg.
⚙️ Where the air smells like bratwurst, the neon flickers like doubt, and Schimanski tap-dances across the center circle like it’s a crime scene.

Genre: Indie Rock × Jangle Pop × Post-Punk
Mood: Stadium romance • Asphalt poetry • Nostalgic rebellion
Vibe: Bittersweet grit • Retro with heart • For fans of true stories in bad lighting

Inside the lyrics:
– Cigarette smoke and fists in the wind
– Two bottles of luck and blood on the concrete
– A chorus that smells like coal and yells like love
– And Schimanski? He doesn’t walk. He storms in slow motion.

🎶 Zebra stripes white and blue, voices rough and hearts true.
No one brakes for MSV – and Schimanski still gets the last dance. 🎶

💥 This is for those who never left the stands – even when life kicked like a broken vending machine.
🎤 Press play, light one up (metaphorically... or not), and shout along until your neighbor moves out.

Lyrics:

Stadiondunst und Fäuste im Wind
Hooligans singen, wo wir zuhause sind
Bier im Hals, die Wut im Blick
Der Schimanski geht mitten durchs dicke Glück

Zigarettenrauch und Neonlicht
Im Mittelkreis steht keiner wie er – nicht!
Zwischen Wurstbuden, Beton und Stahl
Zählen keine Fragen, nur die nächste Zahl

🎶 Zebrastreifen weiß und blau!
Herz aus Kohle, Stimme rau
Kommst du mit, wir steh’n bereit –
für Liebe, Lärm und Streit 🎶
Zebrastreifen weiß und blau!
Keiner bremst den MSV
Schimanski tanzt im Mittelkreis
und Duisburg brüllt uns heiß! 🎶

Zwei Flaschen Glück, drei Minuten Ruhm
Zweierlei Blut auf’m Beton – Boom!
Er schlägt sich durch wie wir durchs Leben
Mit Schnauze, Faust und etwas Beben

Und wenn die Fahne weht im Wind
Erinnert sich das letzte Kind
An Schweiß, an Schlamm, an echten Dreck
Und daran: Wir gehn nie zurück!

🎶 Zebrastreifen weiß und blau!
Herz aus Kohle, Stimme rau
Kommst du mit, wir steh’n bereit –
für Liebe, Lärm und Streit 🎶
Zebrastreifen weiß und blau!
Keiner bremst den MSV
Schimanski tanzt im Mittelkreis
und Duisburg brüllt uns heiß! 🎶

Stadt aus Stahl, wir sind kein Märchen
Doch jedes Spiel schreibt seine Fährten
Und zwischen Flutlicht, Hass und Bier
sind wir die, die bleiben hier

🎶 Zebrastreifen weiß und blau!
Keiner nimmt uns diese Schau
Tatort Herz, die Szene klar:
Schimanski lebt, und wir sind da! 🎶

Zebrastreifen weiß und blau

🎸 Indie Rock × Jangle Pop × Post-Punk
💥 For lovers who fight like poets and kiss like villains.

This ain’t a breakup song.
This is a domestically dramatic duet for two emotionally advanced wrecking balls who sleep on opposite sides of the bed... but somehow still share a dream.
Think: mascara on your pillow, thunder in her lipstick, and passive-aggressive texts that rhyme.

⚔️ Highlights include:
– Romantic warfare in 6/8 time
– Enough poetic trauma to make Shakespeare jealous
– A chorus that hits harder than therapy
– And a bridge that could scandalize your local priest

🎶 Featuring:
– Velvet venom
– Jangled regrets
– Tongue-in-cheek chaos
– And the line “We love best when we crucify” (don’t worry, it’s consensual)

Perfect for:
– Making up after a stylish meltdown
– Cry-dancing in your kitchen
– Or texting “I hate you” with a heart emoji

Now streaming: Punish Me Pleasant
Because sometimes, toxic is just passionate with eyeliner. 💋

Lyrics:

We throw words like teacups at dawn
Silence breaking, porcelain gone
You slam doors, I raise my voice
But even in wreckage, we still make a choice

You curl your lip, I clench my jaw
Still, I trace your spine like breaking the law
Love’s not calm, it’s loud and bent
Like poems we burn but never sent

You bite your tongue, but I see the spark
In that half-laughed insult thrown in the dark
My chest tightens — your pupils swell
And I’m already under your spell

🎶 Punish me pleasant — I beg, I bend
Turn every fight to a fevered end
Scratch my ego, slap my pride
Then kiss the bruise you left inside
Punish me pleasant — and take your time
Make war with grace, make hurt sublime 🎶

You sleep on the left when you're mad
But your foot still finds me — isn’t that sad?
We lie like saints, then sin like thieves
And mourn the calm we can’t believe

Your mascara stains my pillow talk
I fake goodbyes, you change the lock
But every scream still hums with grace
Like thunder wrapped in satin lace

Your silence stings, your perfume taunts
We trade regrets like haunted haunts
I say “enough” — you say “too late”
But your hands already twist the gate

🎶 Punish me pleasant — I ache, I grin
Wrap your venom in velvet sin
Shout my name like a closing door
Then pull me hard to want it more
Punish me pleasant — no need to lie
We love best when we crucify 🎶

We are the sinners the altar won’t bless
Holy in hunger, sacred in mess
If this is sin, then let it stain
I'll wear your wrath like a gold chain

Call me cruel, call me yours
We count our cuts like closing scores
But if this is wrong, don’t make it right —
Just pull me back into the fight

🎶 Punish me pleasant — our nightly rite
Friction wrapped in pale moonlight
We don’t do peace, we do repair
With teeth and tongue and tangled hair
Punish me pleasant — curse me kind
We're flawed, we're fire — and still aligned 🎶

Punish Me Pleasant

☕✨ 5-Minute Weekends – For dreamers who hit snooze on life (and reality)

Welcome to the cozy chaos of your almost-love story with the weekend. This track is soft like your favorite hoodie, wistful like forgotten toast, and warm like that one sunbeam on your kitchen floor.

🎶 5-Minute Weekends is what happens when acoustic guitars, synth pads, and soft vocals team up for a group hug. Add a sprinkle of nostalgic hums (mmm-hmm… oh-oh…) and you’ve got yourself a musical slow dance in your socks.

For fans of:
– Staring out the window like you’re in a movie
– Coffee that’s cold but still romantic
– Emotional support cardigans
– And Sundays that feel like ex-lovers: sweet, confusing, and gone too soon

Perfect for:
– Cry-smiling in the mirror while brushing your teeth
– Writing a novel you’ll never finish
– Or texting “I miss you” but only in your drafts

So grab your slippers, sip your feelings, and press play on 5-Minute Weekends — because life’s too short not to hum along with your heartbreak.

Lyrics:

Clock out slow, the evening’s near
Step outside, the sky feels clear
Friday laughs like it’s here to stay
But it fades in a gentle way

Steam from the kettle, toast gone cold
Tiny dreams I try to hold
Golden hours that feel so right
But slip away like quiet night

mmm-mmm… oh-oh-oh…

🎶 5-minute weekends, soft and small
Come like whispers, barely at all
Coffee breath kisses, messy sheets
Moments we lose but never repeat

We float through time in second-hand shoes
Smiling at stars we’re destined to lose
5-minute weekends — blink and they’re gone
But they still sing when Monday feels long 🎶

mmm-hmm… mmm-hmm… ohhhh…

Saturday wakes in a vinyl hum
We laugh too loud, we come undone
Butter on toast, sunshine in hair
Then it’s dusk before I care

Screens glow soft like lovers do
"One more beer," turns into two
Curtains close on one more dance
And time forgets to give a chance

mmm-mmm… da-da-da…

🎶 5-minute weekends, gone in a sigh
Like dreams you chase but can’t quite tie
Warm little glances, notes on the bed
Echo like songs stuck in your head

Barefoot hearts in second-hand shoes
Skipping through silence, nothing to lose
5-minute weekends — blink and they fade
But in my heart, they always stayed 🎶

mmm-mmm… oh-ohhh…

The fridge hums low, the room feels wide
Socks on the floor where memories hide
Maybe next time it slows down for me
Maybe next time, we’ll dance endlessly

mmm-mmm… maybe next time…

🎶 5-minute weekends, where do you go?
In cab rides home or candlelight glow
Hair on my pillow, scent of the moon
Gone too quick, always too soon

We chase the breeze in quiet shoes
Hoping for magic we never lose
5-minute weekends — blink and they fly
But they’re the sparkle behind my sky 🎶

mmm-hmm… mmm-mmm…

5-Minute Weekends

🎵 Tick… Tack…
Indie Folk / Acoustic Singer-Songwriter

This isn’t a song about time.
It’s a song about hearing it — in the middle of joy, in the shadow of light, in every moment that feels too good to last.

Tick… Tack… is for the quiet worriers, the ones who feel endings before beginnings even settle. It’s a stripped-down letter to the future — to the people we hope will laugh louder, live freer, and maybe never hear the ticking clock we couldn’t ignore.

Fingerpicked guitar. Bare vocals. Space to breathe.
There’s no resolution here — just a humble offering:
a lifetime traded for a better shot at theirs.

🎙️ For anyone who’s ever smiled with a weight in their chest.
🎧 For those who work, save, and try — not for themselves, but for the ones they’ll leave behind.

Maybe they’ll never hear the tick… tack.

Lyrics: 

The sea was blue, the sky was gold
But I felt time growing cold
Even in joy, I heard the end
A quiet echo time will send

We chase the sun, we raise a glass
But I just watch the moments pass
The brighter the smile, the deeper the fear
That loss is always standing near

Tick… tack… tick… tack…
Even the good things never come back

So I work, I save, I build, I try
Stack the days 'til my goodbye
No postcards, no weekend lights
Just money left in case they get it right
Maybe they'll laugh where I held back
Maybe they won’t hear the tick… tack…

I don’t know if I’m wired wrong
But joy has never stayed too long
It whispers soft, then fades away
So I push it down, another day

Tick… tack… tick… tack…
Love on a leash, time on a track

So I work, I save, I build, I try
Stack the days 'til my goodbye
No sunset walks, no soft July
Just one last gift when I close my eyes
Maybe they’ll dance where I went slack
Maybe they won’t hear the tick… tack…

And when I’m gone, they’ll open a drawer
Find the silence I was working for
Not songs, not fame, not notes I wrote
Just a wish — spend it well, with hope

So I work, I save, I build, I try
Maybe they’ll soar — maybe they’ll cry
But if they live without holding back...
Maybe they’ll never hear the tick… tack…

Tick... Tack...

What happens when sizzling chaos meets kale-fueled calm?
Meet Bacon Bridget and Vegan Vincent — a breakfast-themed romantic fever dream wrapped in claps, snaps, and sizzling synths.

This is no ordinary love song.
It’s a duet between a woman who deep-fries her feelings and a man who composts his heartbreak.
She wears bacon tape and winks at toasters.
He brews chamomile with almond guilt.
Together? They flirt, they clash, they maybe-kiss in a hummus-scented cloud of emotional irony.

🎭 Expect:
– Bouncy piano stabs and groovy basslines
– A funky rhythm section with sizzling FX
– Call-and-response chaos between opposites who (maybe?) attract
– One existential spoon, several confused vegetables, and zero nutritional balance

🍳 For fans of:
– Electro-pop musicals that sound like brunch gone rogue
– Absurd duets with a side of flirt
– Love stories where the real drama happens between the courses

🎧 Will they kiss, fight, or serve each other emotional side dishes?
You decide. Just don’t come hungry.

Lyrics:

I bite the morning, crispy edge
A toast cathedral, bacon pledge
I dip my soul in molten fat
And whisper sweet things to my spat

I chant to lentils in my tea
Namaste, non-dairy me
My socks are hemp, my heart is flax
I break up with cheese and never text back

🥓 She’s a sizzle —
🥬 I’m a breeze —
🥓 I bring heat —
🥬 I bring peas —
But fate said “try the combo plate”
Now we’re both on a confused first date

Bacon Bridget! (uh-huh!)
Vegan Vincent! (oh no!)
Flirtin’ by the mango gelato
He brings hummus, I bring flair
We might combust — or share a pear

Bacon Bridget! (that’s me!)
Vegan Vincent! (still free!)
We toast with oat milk and irony
Will it last or will it burn?
Spin the plate — it’s your turn! 🎶

I wore my skirt of bacon tape
He brought a scarf made out of grape
He asked, “Is that… meat on your shoes?”
I said, “Shhh — it helps me choose.”

I panicked, offered beet pâté
She laughed and licked a canapé
We danced in boots of moral mud
And she called me her “organic stud” 😳

🥓 “Do I smell like sin?”
🥬 “Do I look too green?”
🥓 “Can we kiss with bacon breath?”
🥬 “Let’s not think about death.”

Bacon Bridget! (mmm, divine)
Vegan Vincent! (past his prime)
Two hearts beat in sautéed rhyme
A vegan boy, a bacon flame…
Will brunch destroy or win the game?

Bacon Bridget! (one last bite?)
Vegan Vincent! (hold me tight?)
A sizzling kiss or salad fight?
We fade to black… and let them guess —
Did they hug… or made a mess? 🎶

Bacon Bridget & Vegan Vincent

🛠️ Indie Rock × Jangle Pop × Post-Punk 🧵

🎧 A song for anyone who ever got side-eyed by someone in khakis for being just a little too competent.

Welcome to “Get Out of Your Dungarees, NOW!” — a toe-tapping workplace revolution in 4/4.
Part protest anthem, part fashion crime, this track is what happens when post-punk attitude meets HR-approved gaslighting.

It’s the story of a worker who dared to show up practical, prepared, and not beige.
Of course, that was the problem.

🪑 Expect:
– jangly guitars that sound like freedom
– a bassline that walks like it knows what a wrench is
– lyrics dripping with irony, polyester, and management-speak dread

🚫 No soft launches.
🚫 No synergy decks.
✅ Just one rogue employee in overalls making corporate drones sweat through their lanyards.

Warning: May cause sudden desire to unionize or learn plumbing.

If you've ever been told to “smile more,” “blend in,” or “please remove your competence,”
this song’s your anthem.

Now take off those dungarees — or turn it up louder.

Lyrics:

I clocked in on time, boots on the floor
They looked at me like I kicked in the door
Wearing straps, not shame, no silk disguise
Just one pocket full of tools and a pair of clear eyes

He waddled over, badge on his gut
Said, "You're not dressed to shut up and shut up."
"You look like someone who’s done a thing —
We don’t allow that in Marketing.”

Get out of your dungarees, please!
This is a brand, not a battlefield, jeez
You’re scaring the interns, exposing the scheme
You walk like you’ve lived — that’s not our dream

Get out of your dungarees, now!
They’re starting to think you know how
To actually do — to lift, to make
That’s not the image we carefully fake

"The customers," he wheezed, "are plumbers and such
If they see you like this, it’s just too much!"
"They might think you’re useful, they might feel seen
That’s off-brand for us — we deal in routine.”

"You belong behind desks, with a spreadsheet stare
Not looking like you actually care."
"You’re too direct, too strong, too warm
You’re workplace weather, and we want norm."

Get out of your dungarees, please!
Your straps are rebellion, your fabric’s disease
You don’t belong with your feet on the ground
We float on buzzwords — you make sound.

Take off your competence, tuck in your pride
There’s no place for dignity on this ride
We don’t reward what makes you real
We want cold hands and clickbait zeal.

“The issue is… the clients are plumbers.
You wear what they wear.
They might… relate.
And we can’t…
have that.”

Get out. Get out.
You're not beige enough.
You wear your mind like a fist
And your body like intent.

Get out of your dungarees…
…please.

Get Out of Your Dungarees, Please

🎸 “On-Off Fun” – the Ghosting National Anthem You Didn’t Know You Needed
(Indie Rock × Jangle Pop × Post-Punk)

Ever dated a glitch in the matrix with a cat, a dream, and a Wi-Fi connection stronger than her commitment? Welcome to “On-Off Fun”, a jangly heartbreak banger for anyone who's ever tried to date a browser tab.

📱 She typed, she vanished, she reappeared with vegan lasagna updates.
🪦 You hoped, you cried, you rewrote your playlist in lowercase.

This track is your soundtrack for:
– Staring at read receipts like they’re sacred runes
– Getting emotionally attached to a pixelated "hey"
– Dancing ironically in the shower while muttering “I just need some space” like it’s your mantra

🧵 What to expect:
– Guitars as crisp as that first “hey” in spring
– A bassline that sounds like self-doubt on loop
– Lyrics stitched with sarcasm, longing, and mild digital haunting

💌 Perfect for:
– Fans of The Smiths, The Strokes, and unanswered texts
– Anyone who ever waited too long for “just one more message”
– Trees. Idiot trees. You’ll get it.

Lyrics:

She said you're the best I've ever known
With that soft voice over the phone
Then silence fell like winter rain
A month went by, no word, no name
Then she whispers through a pixel screen
Sorry, I just need some space, I mean
But space was all she ever gave
And I'm just dancing on my grave

Her shadow in my message queue
Typing gone, what else is new
Each hi becomes a phantom limb
Each bye a hymn that's wearing thin

On-off fun, just arrived and already gone
She lingers like a fading name
Just hovering in the door frame
A stupid game starts getting lame
Heart's on hold, I'm not the same

She came back like a summer storm
Pouring stories hot and warm
About her cat, her dream, her job
Then vanished with a quiet sob
A ghost with Wi-Fi, that's her style
She drains my hope, refills a file
Of maybe next time, let's just see
But she's not talking honestly

Read receipts like Morse code pain
A broken dance, a looped refrain
I try to care, I try to flee
But still I wait like an idiot tree

On-off fun, just arrived and already gone
She lingers like a fading name
Just hovering in the door frame
A stupid game starts getting lame
Heart's on hold, I'm not the same

I didn't mean to hurt you
She says in May, but never stays
It's just a lot
Then walks away

On-off fun, just arrived and already gone
She lingers like a fading name
Just hovering in the door frame
A stupid game starts getting lame
Still I wait, still I remain

On Off (Pop Version)

🏙️ Welcome to Mladá Boleslav – the town where your GPS sighs, your coffee comes with a user manual, and romance politely declines your friend request.

🎸 “Mladá Boleslav (Pop Version)” is your jangly, melancholic anthem for those who’ve ever fallen not in love, but into existential meh.
Think: post-punk rhythm meets small-town punctuality. Indie rock guitars wander wide streets of industrial indifference, while jangle pop melodies try to make eye contact with the Škoda museum (it blinks once, disapprovingly).

🧾 What to expect:
– Guitars as crisp as an Excel spreadsheet
– Lyrics stitched from quiet despair and precision welding
– That haunting feeling of ordering soup in a town where emotion is strictly regulated

🎧 Perfect for:
– Staring into your dashboard in parking lot P3
– Emotional breakdowns in well-organized bus terminals
– Writing sad postcards from towns you never meant to visit

📦 This isn’t heartbreak. It’s time management.
Hit play. And stay exactly as long as scheduled.

Lyrics:

Rolled in from the E65
Headlights fading gray
Industrial ghost line the road
Warehouses in silent ballet
Steel and glass, concrete and chrome
This town don't sing, but it hums like a metronome
Came too early, sky still cold
Eateries asleep behind shutters bold
Near Novy Park, by the football ground
A kind of silence that makes no sound

Mladá Boleslav
Like a clock without a chime
Precise, unfeeling, always on time
You won't fall in love, but you'll stay a while
Not for the thrill, but the measured mile

Mladá Boleslav
In your silence I find
A boredom so deep, it redefines time
Museum doors and a factory pride
Škoda hearts with no need to hide
Efficiency etched in every street
But no heartbeat, no jazz, no heat

Mladá Boleslav
Like a clock without a chime
Precise, unfeeling, always on time
You won't fall in love, but you'll stay a while
Not for the thrill, but the measured mile

Brushed past lives not lived, just done
Saturday's soul beneath a clouded sun
A city built like a resume page
Neat, correct, devoid of rage
There's beauty in the absence, a lesson in the plain
Like meeting someone stable yet driving you insane
They'll fix your car, your watch, your day
But never ask if you're okay

Mladá Boleslav
Like a clock without a chime
Precise, unfeeling, always on time
You won't write poems, but you'll write checks
Built on the bones of post-war specs

Mladá Boleslav
Like a whisper in the side
So cold, so calm, so borderline fine
Maybe not love, but something aligned
The hum of machines, I lose my mind
Mladá Boleslav, a name I won't forget
A soulless rhythm, I still can't regret

Mladá Boleslav (Pop Version)

🚬 "Road Sweeper Love Song" – the tragic indie anthem you didn’t know you shared with your last cigarette.

Ever loved someone like you love your last smoke? With full devotion… and complete disregard for your own well-being? Welcome to “Road Sweeper,” a jangly breakup ballad where the ghost of romance smells faintly of tobacco, cheap perfume, and existential regret.

🎸 This is the story of a cigarette with a god complex.
🧹 And a lover with a lighter and no conscience.
🪦 And you, standing alone outside the post office, whispering “was it real?” to a pile of ash.

💔 Perfect for:
– Crying ironically on park benches
– That “cool” heartbreak where you wear sunglasses indoors
– Writing bad poetry in Notes app while your tea goes cold

🎧 What you'll hear:
– Guitars jangling like nervous hands on a matchbox
– Basslines that sound like disappointment in slow motion
– A chorus that makes ghosts dance on traffic islands

🗑️ Love sets you on fire. But who comes to sweep you up?

Lyrics:

🔥 Burn me. Love me. Leave me by the curb.
🚛 “Now I wait for the road sweeper…”
Walking down to the post office,
Found you lying there, little ghost of smoke.
Once a king in a velvet box,
Now just ashes and old hope.
You were long and proud, oh beautiful and loud,
Orange crown, white robe, ready for the crowd.
Oh they loved you for a moment, loved you 'til you burned,
Then you crashed down cold — no lessons learned.

And when you take me out — wouwou —
And set me on fire — you did it.
Tasted my soul — wouwou —
Then crushed my desire — you did it.
Loved me when I burned — wouwou —
But left me in the mire — you did it.
Now I wait for the road sweeper,
Now I wait for the road sweeper...

Was it fun for you, little flame of mine?
Was it bliss for me, or just passing time?
I wonder if the fire felt like love,
Or just the sentence from above.
Last kiss, last pull, last bit of my pride,
And down on the concrete, no more places to hide.
A porch above, but no real grace,
Just a cold, dirty resting place.

Burn me, love me, leave me behind,
Lost and lonely, nobody's find.
Set me on fire, but never look back,
Toss me away when I fade to black.
Burn me, love me, leave me alone,
Crushed and broken, cold as stone.

And when you take me out — wouwou —
And set me on fire — you did it.
Tasted my soul — wouwou —
Then crushed my desire — you did it.
Loved me when I burned — wouwou —
But left me in the mire — you did it.
Now I wait for the road sweeper,
Now I wait for the road sweeper...

Maybe once, I lit your world,
Maybe once, I made you twirl,
But now I’m dust under your heel,
Just a memory you won't feel...

And when you take me out — wouwou —
And set me on fire — you did it.
Tasted my soul — wouwou —
Then crushed my desire — you did it.
Loved me when I burned — wouwou —
But left me in the mire — you did it.
Now I wait for the road sweeper,
Now I wait for the road sweeper...
Now I wait, now I wait... yeah,
For the road sweeper...

Set Me on Fire (Indie Rock Version)

🔥 “That’s How We Love” – Indie Rock × Jangle Pop × Post-Punk heartbreak for emotionally gifted pyromaniacs.

Ever tried to hug someone so hard you both fell apart like a poorly-assembled IKEA chair? That’s this song.

💔 What’s inside?
– Guitars jangling like nervous confessions in a therapy group
– Lyrics stitched together from burned journals, broken promises, and one very poetic paper cut
– Drums that sound like your inner child screaming into a pillow
– And yes, a chorus that kisses you, then ghosts you, then comes back with an apology playlist

🎯 Perfect for:
– Crying in your bathroom mirror and rating your tears by aesthetic
– Loving too much and explaining it with astrology
– Whispering “I’m fine” like it’s a punk anthem

🛠️ You’ll hear the sound of holding on too long, letting go too late, and calling it growth because your therapist said so. Also: velvet scars, busted spoons, and doves that need a union rep.

This is romantic damage, wrapped in guitar reverb and poetic delusion.

✨ Go ahead. Press play.
Ruin your day... beautifully.

Lyrics:

That's how we love
With cracked up hands and crooked grace
Serve it hot then leave no trace
We sip the spark, we bruise the bloom
And call it love
(Hey)
Still call it love

Giving hurt when hearts are thin
We pass the light but bleed it in
No roadmap here, no cruel intent
Just echoes moving through cement
We try to hold, not break apart
But holding tight can crack a heart
We meant the warmth, not all this sting
But even doves can lose their wing
To give it all
And take it back
To fill a soul
And leave a crack

That's how we love
With busted spoons and velvet scars
It starts with hope, ends behind bars
We drink the burn, we taste the gloom
And call it love
We still call it love

Like ink we drop in open seas
We drift through warm uncertainties
We hold the light then let it fall
Walk barefoot through the broken all
To breathe a risk, to speak a flame
A smile can sting, a glance can maim
But what's the game to never leap
Or dive through fire and swim in deep
Don't fear the bruise
It's how we heal
Don't blame the taste
It made it real

This is our way
To give, to fall, to still return
To love through ash, to breathe and burn
To risk the scar, to call it bliss
A maze of grace we can't resist

That’s How We Love (Indie Rock Version)

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