Ever wondered what your week would look like if it quit its job, moved to the coast, and started a shoegaze side project?
Turns out, Monday through Sunday have been living rent-free in a VHS tape since 1987, scoring their own soft-focus life documentary.

This is Chillwave at its most gloriously unnecessary:
🌊 Synths so warped you’ll think your speakers are melting
📷 Melodies that sound like they belong to memories you swear you had, but probably didn’t
🍹 The audio equivalent of sipping a piña colada while staring moodily at a postcard

It’s not just music — it’s a time capsule you never actually buried.
Press play, lean back, and watch your responsibilities dissolve like a Polaroid in the sun.
Side effects may include: buying a vintage windbreaker, talking about “vibes” too much, and sending postcards to people who live in the same city as you.

Lyrics:

Monday drifts in with a shadowed face
Hands in his pockets, moving at a fragile pace
He hums a song no one remembers well
Something between a greeting and a farewell

Tuesday writes letters she’ll never send
Leaves them in drawers, knowing how they’ll end
Her smile is pale, like the early rain
She wears the quiet, she wears the strain

🎶 Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
Lalala la lalalalalalala
Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
La lalalalalalala 🎶

Wednesday’s a bridge half-lost in the mist
Carrying dreams that barely exist
He leans on the rail, staring at the tide
Counting the waves as they slip and hide

Thursday is lonely, but she hides it well
She speaks of tomorrow like a fragile spell
Her eyes are glass, but the cracks don’t show
She’s the promise of warmth in a world of snow

🎶 Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
Lalala la lalalalalalala
Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
La lalalalalalala 🎶

Friday wears perfume like a faded flame
She dances alone, whispering someone’s name
Her laughter’s soft, but it slips away
Like the end of a song you wanted to stay

Saturday sighs under silver skies
Her joy is a ghost in her half-closed eyes
She sleeps through the sun, wakes for the moon
Knowing both will be gone too soon

Sunday’s a blanket, frayed at the seams
Holding you close inside her dreams
She hums a tune you almost recall
Before Monday returns to take it all

🎶 Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
Lalala la lalalalalalala
Lalala la la laaaalaaaa
La lalalalalalala 🎶

Seven slow ghosts, walking in a line
Each with their shadow, each with their sign
Days pass like whispers, soft and undone
Until all the weeks blur into one

From Monday to Sunday (Chillwave)

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!

From Monday to Sunday (Chillwave)

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