Fly Me to the Moon

Safe And Sound - Byond Bliss

Call Me Maybe

Plastikkarte, Girokarte , Visakarte, Debitkarte, Paybackkarte, 

Frühling der  Senioren

Plastikkarte

Honest Man

No Friends at the Party

🍕 “SOLO PER CLIENTI” — the unofficial Italian summer anthem nobody asked for… but everybody needs. 🇮🇹🚗☀️

Imagine this: a tiny German car, endless winding coastal roads, the smell of fresh lasagna in the summer air… and zero parking. Every single sign screams “SOLO PER CLIENTI” — and our poor heroine? She just wants pizza, mamma mia! 🍝

This French House groove blends soulful male vocals (with a gloriously strong Italian accent), filtered disco synths, deep sidechained basslines, and sun-kissed beats into the ultimate late-afternoon soundtrack. It's smooth, it’s groovy, and it comes with a hint of tiramisu-fueled desperation.

If you’ve ever been hangry on holiday, trapped between Aperol dreams and parking nightmares, this one’s for you. Close your eyes, turn up the volume, and drive straight into Mediterranean chaos.

Warning: This track may cause
🍕 Sudden pizza cravings
🥂 Aperol spritz nostalgia
🚗 Spontaneous shouts of “SOLO PER CLIENTI!”

Perfect for:
🌴 Golden-hour beach drives
🍹 Late-summer balcony parties
🎧 Dancing barefoot with pasta in hand
🇮🇹 Pretending you’re Italian even if you’re not

Lyrics:

She drives a tiny car from Germany,
Through winding roads to the deep blue sea,
Dolce vita dreams, sunglasses on,
But her stomach's empty, mamma mia, she’s done!

Every little street, every little sign,
Says “solo per clienti” — babe, she’s losin’ time!
Pizza in her mind, but no place to stay,
O sole mio, take my hunger away!

Solo per clienti!
No, no, no parcheggio niente!
Solo per clienti!
Pizza, pasta… where’s the entry?
Solo per clienti!
My amore, it’s so tormenti,
Solo per clienti!
O mamma mia… help me, senti! 

She sees a little trattoria by the square,
Smells the fresh lasagna in the summer air,
She parks the car, but a man starts to scream:
“Signorinaaa! This is not what it seems!”

"Bellissima, capisci, non si può…
This parking here — non per te!"
And she sighs, “Okay, okay…
I just want pizza… por favoreee!”

Solo per clienti!
No, no, no parcheggio niente!
Solo per clienti!
Tiramisu is my tormenti!
Solo per clienti!
Maccheroni… sentimenti,
Solo per clienti!
O mamma mia… hungry belly! 

Drive, drive, drive…
Past the beach and wine,
One day, somehow…
She’ll find that sign:
“Benvenuti… clienti tutti!”

Solo Per Clienti (French House Version)

I dont wanna be ur girlfriend

Ever wondered what happens when indie rock panic meets post-punk denial and jangle-pop optimism?

Well… this track answers it:

👉 A person literally baking a cake during a fire alarm.

The whole world outside is going full “Doom & Gloom: Live Edition” —
sirens crying, neighbours screaming, smoke creeping under the door —
and our hero is standing there like:

“Yeah yeah, apocalypse, whatever — the crust needs two more minutes.”

This song is basically the spiritual successor of:

“This is fine.”

“I’ll panic later, I’m busy.”

“If the roof falls, at least the frosting slaps.”

It’s the anthem for anyone who has ever ignored a real problem
because something in the oven was at a critical emotional moment.

Expect:
🥁 jangle guitars that sound like your smoke detector having an existential crisis
🎸 indie-rock riffs that slap harder than the collapsing ceiling
🔥 post-punk energy that whispers: “buddy… you’re not okay, but the cake is”
🍰 and a level of chaotic calmness that should not legally be allowed

If the world ever burns again (give it 48 hours),
blast this track, grab a whisk,
and remember:

WORRY NEVER BAKED A THING.

Lyrics:

While the world was burning,
I was checking the oven light.
Everybody ran outside,
I just wanted the crust right.
Sirens screaming in the streets,
and I'm measuring flour like it’s peace.
Smoke is leaking under every door,
but hey — the batter needs a little more.

Maybe I should worry,
but worry never baked a thing.
Maybe I should hurry,
but hurry never made it sing.

So I’m baking a cake in a fire alarm,
with the kitchen shaking like it means me harm.
All the neighbours shout that I should escape,
but the timer’s ticking — sorry, no break.
If the world goes down, I’ll still stay calm,
mixing sugar in a natural charm.
Yeah, the roof might drop, but the taste’s divine —
let the flames go crazy, the cake’s still mine.

The smoke turned into dancing ghosts,
cheering for the butter I added most.
Someone knocked and yelled: “Get out!”
But the batter rose — so I stayed devout.
There’s chaos on the news tonight,
but I’m beating eggs like I’m ready to fight.
Ash is falling like confetti rain,
and I’m greasing the pan to stay sane.

Maybe it looks foolish,
but foolish keeps me whole.
If life’s a burning building,
I’ll frost it with control.

So I’m baking a cake in a fire alarm,
with the kitchen shaking like it means me harm.
All the neighbours shout that I should escape,
but the timer’s ticking — sorry, no break.
If the world goes down, I’ll still stay calm,
mixing sugar in a natural charm.
Yeah, the roof might fall, but the taste’s divine —
let the flames go crazy, the cake’s still mine.

Let the ashes fall, let the headlines scream —
I’ll stir the chaos into whipped-cream dreams.
If everything crumbles and nothing survives,
I’ll still bake sweetness into bitter lives.

So I’m baking a cake in a fire alarm,
with the world collapsing like it means me harm.
Everyone’s running but I stay in place —
there’s magic rising in this metal case.
If the night goes dark, I’ll still stay warm —
in a kitchen storm, in a sugar-storm.
Yeah, the city can crumble, the sirens can whine —
I’ll be here baking —
the cake is mine.

Baking a Cake in a Fire Alarm

VIVOS 25

La calma es solo una pausa entre dos tormentas LIVE

🔊💭 Baby Got Brain — The Dub Mix for People Who Prefer Intelligence Over Sixpacks

This is the soundtrack for everyone who ever fell in love
—not with hips, lips, or trips—
but with a mind so big it needs its own seat reservation.

Prepare your two remaining brain cells.

Because, my friend… Baby. Got. Brain. 🧠💚🔊

Enjoy the wobble. Enjoy the wisdom.

Lyrics:

Oh my God, dude, look at her mind.
It is so big.
She’s like… one of those genius girls or something.
Who understands those genius girls?
They only talk in metaphors, quantum physics,
and “actually” every five seconds.
Her brain… it’s just so huge.
Like, I can’t believe it’s just so sharp.
It’s out there.
She’s just so… brilliant.

I like big brains and I can’t deny,
All you simple bros can’t even try.
When a girl walks in with encyclopedic grace
And a logic bomb in your face,
You freeze up —
Wanna hold your cup,
’Cause you know her IQ is gonna eat you up.
Deep in the books she’s carrying,
I’m stunned and I can’t stop staring.

Oh, smarty,
I wanna write papers with ya,
And maybe take a lecture.
My homeboys try to warn me,
But that brain you got makes me so nerdy.

Ooh, Miss Philosopha,
You say you wanna school my aura?
Well, teach me, teach me —
’Cause you ain’t that average sweetie.

I’ve seen her thinking,
Her neurons linking,
She’s fast — blast —
Got it runnin’ like a server stack.

I’m tired of dudes complainin’
Sayin’ “smart girls are intimidatin’.”
Take the average guy and ask him quick —
He wants someone super slick.

So fellas (yeah!) fellas (yeah!)
Has your lady got the brain? (Oh yeah!)
Tell her to show it (show it!) prove it (prove it!)
Show that healthy brain!

Baby got brain.

Baby got brain.
Baby got brain.

I like ’em wise — and deep,
And when she talks philosophy, I lose sleep.
I just can’t help myself, I’m actin’ like a student,
Now here’s my clue then:
I wanna get her home
And uhh — double up — uhh — uhh —
On study sessions.
I ain’t talkin’ dis’ professions —
I want real thoughts and insights,
So bring that genius light.

Professor’s in trouble,
Beggin’ for a piece of that bubble —
Of knowledge.
I’m watchin’ documentaries,
Sharp ladies crushin’ all the theories.
You can keep your vanity queens,
I want women with PhDs.

A word to the brilliant sisters:
I wanna get with ya,
I won't ghost or ditch ya,
But I gotta be straight when I say
I’m tryin’ to think with ya
Till the break of dawn.

Baby’s got it goin’ on.
A lot of bros won’t like this track,
’Cause they prefer minds turned off — not back.
But I’d rather read, then lead,
’Cause I’m strong, and I belong
With a woman who solves equations wrong?
Nah — she solves ’em all day long!

So ladies (yeah!) ladies (yeah!)
If your intellect drives men crazy (yeah!)
Then turn around, stick it out —
Let the world know without a doubt:

Baby got brain.

Yeah girl, when it comes to mental power…
Forget those glossy magazines.
Your 900 IQ spread…
Mmm, that’s the real dream.

So your boyfriend drives a hatchback,
Actin’ tough with a podcast playback —
But he ain’t got a processor
Like the one you got inside, professor.

My anaconda — nope —
Doesn’t even cope
Unless you’ve got… quotes,
Hun.

You can do Sudoku or logic drills,
But don’t lose those skills.

Some wannabes talk real bold
Sayin’ “smart girls leave me cold.”
So they ditch ya and leave ya,
But I pull up quick just to meet ya.

If someone says you’re “too smart,”
I ain’t down with that.
Your mind is fire, your thoughts are kickin’,
And I’m thinkin’ ’bout stickin’
Around for all your wild ideas —
You’re the one I want, my dear.

So ladies, if the brain is round —
And you run this whole damn town —
Forget dumb thoughts, let’s get profound:

Baby got brain.

Baby got brain.
Baby got brain.

Baby Got Brain (Dub Version)

Hi there — welcome to my corner of the web.

I’m here for one simple reason: to share my music with you.
Take a listen, explore, and I hope something here resonates with you. Enjoy the vibe!

Baby Got Brain (Dub Version)

Unbekannter Künstler

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