✨ Electric Heartbeats – Electro & Deep House Pop for Dreamers & Dancers ⚡

Where neon nights kiss synthy skies — this playlist pulses with glitter and guts. Hooky choruses meet digital dreams, and every beat feels like a text you shouldn’t have sent. From mirrorball melancholy to pixel-perfect joy, this is pop’s boldest makeover. Dress loud. Feel louder. Dance like tomorrow’s battery is dead. 💔🔋🕺

Electro & House Playlist - Unbekannter Künstler

🔥 All killer, no filler.
The biggest tracks. The hottest songs. Non-stop hits.
Whether you're working, driving, or dancing, these are the songs everyone’s talking about.

Top Hits Only — play loud, skip nothing.

Top Hits Only

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

Only time... only time... only time...

Streets bright — (echo: bright... bright...)
Heart — heavy... heavy...
Glass reflections, passing by — (by... by...)
Smile fake, pain real — (real... real...)

And no matter... (echo: matter... matter...)
what I do... (I do... I do...)
Only time... (only time... only time...)
Get me through... (through... through...) 🎶


Steak and wine — no cure... (cure... cure...)
Movies dark — more tears... (tears... tears...)
Crowds dancing — I disappear... (disappear... disappear...)
Sky bleeding — heart seizing...

Only time...
Only time...
Only... time...
Get me... through... (through... through...) 🎶

Memory wash away... (wash away...)
Good days drown... (drown...)
Bad dreams... drift down...
All of it — lost in the tide... (tide... tide...)

And no matter... what I do...
Only time...
Will get me... through...
(through... through... through...) 🎶
[Outro – bass echoes into silence, only faint synths remaining]

Time (Dub Version)

low whisper
Gone...
Left...
Ghost voice pon di wind...

You left... (left... left...)
But stay... (stay... stay...)
"How are you?"... (how are you... you... you...)
No heart... (no heart... art... art...)
No fire... (no fire... fire... ire...)
Ghost mouth talk... (talk... talk... talk...)

🎶 How are you?
Ghost talking...
No feeling...
Ghost walking...
Better silence...
Better true...
Than a ghost pretending you! 🎶

Mouth moving... soul missing...
Wind talking...
Nothing listening...

Left your... shape... (shape... ape... ape...)
Left your... smile... (smile... ile... ile...)
No light... inside... (side... side...)
Only... goodbye... (bye... bye... bye...)

🎶 How are you? (you? you? you?)
🎶 Ghost pretending... ghost pretending...
🎶 Puppet smile... puppet smile...

🎶 How are you...? (long echo)
🎶 Better silence... silence...
🎶 Than a ghost... ghost... ghost...
🎶 Pretending you... (huge reverb boom)

How Are You? (Dub Version)

The Ghost (Dub Version)

There's a river in my mind, thick with shadows, slow and wide
Branches claw like twisted hands, no escape on either side
I stand barefoot on the edge, heart a drum inside my chest
No map, no guide, just breath and depth—this is my only test

What if there's gold beneath the grime?
Or just more ghosts and borrowed time?
But running back is not a way
The only move is in, not away

🎶 So I dive in, I dive in
With a smile I fake until it's real again
Let the muddy water wash my skin
This is life, and I won't let it win
I dive in, I dive in
Not in fear, but with joy and fire within
Let the storm come thick and wild
I'll come out the other side, reconciled
🎶

Maybe it's just surface mud, hiding crystal light below
Or maybe there's a beast inside, waiting for the final blow
But standing still is just a lie, disguised as some retreat
I’d rather choke and lose my breath than rot upon my feet

No whispers left to soothe my doubt
No silent route to walk around
So here’s my heart, exposed and bare
I breathe it in like jungle air

🎶 So I dive in, I dive in
With a smile I fake until it's real again
Let the muddy water wash my skin
This is life, and I won't let it win
I dive in, I dive in
Not in fear, but with joy and fire within
Let the storm come thick and wild
I'll come out the other side, reconciled
🎶

No lifeline, no easy song
Just this current pulling strong
But I’m not made of breakable things
I am roots, I am wings

And if the water pulls me down
I’ll rise up, wear the silt like a crown
Not every thought is truth or fate
Some just test how much you take

🎶 So I dive in, I dive in
Not afraid of the dark I’m swimming in
Let the weight pull, let it spin
I'll still smile with soaked-in skin
I dive in, I dive in
With a soul too loud to let silence win
Bad thoughts come, let them try
But I’ve got joy that never dies
🎶

Take a breath, and jump, and feel...
The muddy water — is how you heal.

Dive In (Deep House Version)

Clock strikes noon, like it always does,
The hum of fridges, the buzz of fluorescent fuzz.
Steel shelves behind me, concrete in my head,
Black bread in clingfilm, dreams already dead.
No label on the loaf, no name on the meat,
Pork so thin, it's almost sweet.
I take my seat like a tired bard—
My kingdom for a condiment. Life hits hard.

But oh, what's that across the sea?
Golden treasure, shining free.
A tube — strong or mild — I don’t care…
Just let me taste it, if you dare.

🎶 Could I borrow your mustard, just for a while?
Just a squeeze of fire, to make this pork smile.
I'll give it back, I swear, even if it's dry—
Even if the last drop is a lie. 🎶
🎶 I'm not a thief, I’m a dreamer at lunch,
Living on crumbs and that tangy punch.
So lend me a squeeze, oh don’t make a fuss,
I’m just a man… who borrows too much. 🎶

He scans the table — his daily scan,
A condiment cartographer, a desperate man.
Eyes like sonar, soul like fog,
Sniffing out mustard like a hungry dog.
There! A tube! Slightly crumpled, bent,
Its label worn, its life well spent.
And still he asks, with tragic flair:
“Mind if I borrow that, over there?”

Oh the comedy, the pain, the lore—
Returning empty what you begged for.
That sacred yellow, last molecule—
Gone forever, yet played so cool.

🎶 Could I borrow your mustard, just for a while?
A brief romance with the tangy style.
I'll pass it back, this hollow tube,
A gesture of honor, ironic and crude. 🎶
🎶 I never bring my own, that's not my way,
I let others spice my day.
So lend me your tube, no guilt, no grudge—
I’m just a man… with mustard to judge. 🎶

Cold roast and darker bread,
A feast of sorrow, barely fed.
A borrowed life in borrowed taste,
Dignity wrapped in plastic waste.
You may laugh, you may despise—
But in my mustard, freedom lies.
A borrowed squeeze, a golden stream,
My daily sin, my lunchtime dream.

🎶 Could I borrow your mustard? Just one more time…
One last burst of that yellow crime.
I’ll return the tube, drained and done—
Like my soul, chasing lunchroom sun. 🎶
🎶 No pride, no plan, just a man on his break,
Greedy for flavor, not what he makes.
So if you see me, eyes full of trust—
You know the line… “Lend me your must…” 🎶


The Mustard Moocher (Deep House 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)

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)

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!