The Succubus

Shit On A Blanket

He lives in me
My enemy, my voice of doubt
The one who whispers, “You’re nothing”
Who drains the courage out

He crawls beneath my chest
Grinds my gears when I begin
He’s the hand that kills my visions
The wall I crash within

He lives in me
The one who mocks me when I speak
The one who spits I’ll never matter
That my strength is fucking weak

He laughs when I’m in ruins
Feeds when my soul’s sore
He sits inside my shadow
And drinks down all my war

He lives in me
He never sleeps, he never fades
He drags me down through every morning
With chains made of my shame

And even if no one sees it
Even if they think I shine—
There’s a monster in my mirror
Tearing every hope of mine

He lives in me
And I can’t fucking flee
Because when I stare into the dark…
That demon staring back is me

He breaks me when I wake
No reason, just the sting
He compares me, tears me open
Passes judgment like a king

There’s no truce, no tomorrow
No “you’ll be okay”
When the one who wants you dead…
Is your soul in decay

He lives in me
I know his every move
He knows my guilt, my sins,
My stories carved in wounds

And I keep trying to silence him
But he always screams above
Because this eternal enemy…
Was never from outside 

He lives in me
He’s my skin, my curse, my skin
He kneels me with his poison
And forbids me joy again

¿Y cómo escapar de lo que soy?
¿Cómo huir si no hay otro yo?
¿Dónde esconderme…
Si el enemigo…
lleva mi rostro y mi dolor?

He lives in me
And now I finally see
I’m not just my executioner…
I’m the seed that grew the beast

And if one day I break the chains
It won’t be through running blind
It’ll be by facing my own reflection
And forgiving what’s inside

He lives in me
Yes…
That…
Is me. (MY WORST ENEMY!!!)

He Lives In Me

Low fire, long breath.
Athanor hums in the chest.
Lampblack lungs, winter tongue,
watch the ash confess.

Solvet, softly,
Coagula blaze, but a patient kiln.
Soot to soap, guilt to lye,
let the cleansing in.

Soot marks the places my silence slept,
coal script under ribs where the frost was kept.
Old heat folded in iron skin,
a forge remembers where it’s been.
Salt is witness, smoke is vow,
mercury moves like a now within now.
I don’t beg the dark to go, I bid it melt,
stir the slag of what I felt.
Fuligo, fulcrum; pressure, poise,
quiet labor, fewer noise.
Not thunder, not spectacle, just breath and heat,
iron snow falling on the street.
Burn what you bore; smelt it to light,
fold and refold till temper is right.
Quench the blade in the truth you own:
if it cuts, it’s grown.

Through the sootfold I go, slow,
hands black, but the pulse aglow.
Little by little the soul will know:
even the dark can snow.

Sot and snow, let the heart lay low,
eira on the coal till the embers glow.
Sot and snow, slow bright, slow true,
from gloom to goleuni, I’m coming through.

I sift old names like cinders in a pan,
keep what warms, let go what never ran.
The bright melt hums where the chill once fed,
a whisper rising through what’s dead.
Alembic patience, drip by drip,
habit unthreads, old skin slips.
I unlearn the metal that loves my rust,
oil the hinge of a stubborn trust.
The sootfold taught me to hold the weight,
the dawngrain whispers: wait, just wait.
Heartfire flickers like straw in sun,
you don’t rush what must be done.
Not a sainted shine, not a spotless hymn,
just clean enough to begin again.

Lampblack to ink, ink to oath,
oath to breath, breath to growth.

Snow on the forge, and the hiss says stay,
every flake is a way to pray.
Not for a miracle, only a field,
where ash turns soil and the soil can yield.

Sot and snow, let the heart lay low,
eira on the coal till the embers glow.
Sot and snow, slow bright, slow true,
from gloom to goleuni, I’m coming through.

No crown, no stone, just knuckles and tone,
a steady metronome of bone on bone.
Burn what you bore, smelt it to light,
carry the small flame into night.
When the breath shows white and the road is thin,
open the door and walk back in.

Soot to soap.
Snow to hope.
Hand to heart.
Start.

sot and snow

HARMA ECHO

RETURN HOME, MY CODES

Unsteady Waters is Harlan Crowe’s country/indie-rock odyssey—baritone lead over twangy Telecasters, pedal steel, and a hip-hop drum kit, stretched into progressive, psychedelic widescreen. Thirteen songs flow seamlessly, each scene morphing via field-foley transitions (river → embers → temple hush → harbor wind → kitchen clink → open range), carrying a pilgrim’s arc from doubt to courage. Hooks are earthy and lived-in; arrangements breathe and sprawl—vocal chants, long instrumental passages, synth soundscapes, and circle-dance energy—then the finale loops back to Track 1 for continuous play. For fans of cinematic country, alt-folk, and beat-driven Americana.

Scales on the Road

CAPITALZ N STEEZ  (1.10x)

Big City (Prod. Jack Ohare)

CAREFREE FEAT. J.A.

Oh, hey... oh, hey now...

My daddy's daddy wore the same worn boots
Walked the same hard ground, pulled the same dead roots
And I'm walking in their footsteps, can't outrun the sun
I'm a son of a son of a son! 

Oh, hey, oh, hey now

My grandfather's anger lives inside my chest
His father's restless sorrow won't let me rest
We're passing down the burden like a loaded gun
I'm a son of a son of a son

Oh, hey, we all are!

We're stuck in a bloodline reprisal
We all strike the match and call it our survival
Breaking curses with our own hands' arrival
Burn the inheritance, rewrite the Bible!

I found my father's letters in a rusted tin
Read his father's words about the shape he's in
Same pain, different age, under the same burnin' sun
We're all sons of a son of a son

Oh, hey, oh, hey now

We're drinking from the well that made our fathers sick
Loving with the fists they used to throw and kick
But somewhere in this bloodline, something's got to give
We can't just die the way our grandfathers lived

Oh, hey, we've got to live!

We're stuck in a bloodline reprisal
We all light a fire, make it archetypal
For the ghosts and their damn denial
Wash me in the truth till I feel the tidal!

My brother's got the same broken promises I keep
My cousin's got the rage that won't let him sleep
We're scattered cross the country but we're cut from the same cloth
Tryin' to wash out the stain our grandfathers never got off

I met a man who said, "Boy, you look just like your kin"
I said, "I know, sir, that's the fight I'm in"
But I'm learning I can love where they could only run
I'm a son of a son of a son

We're stuck in a bloodline reprisal
Someone tell the old men it's about survival
For the sake of our sons and our sons' rivals
We're breaking the cycle, call it generational revival!

We're stuck in a bloodline reprisal
Someone sing it loud, make it our arrival
For the hurt and the long denial
Lay me down in a field of hope and let the healing go viral

Gather close now, feel the weight
We're the ones who change the fate
I'm a son of a son of a son
I'm a son of a son of a son
I'm a son of a son of a son

Son Of A Son

Early music Influences: Kraftwerk, Emmerson Lake and Palmer, Jean Michel Jarre, Tangerine Dream, Geoff Wayne, New Order, Eurythmics, Soft Cell, Depeche Made,  Wendy Carlos, Garry Newman and the Sex Pistols. Also reference to the Prodigy, Gorillaz Leftfield, Nine Inch Nails, White Zombie and electronic music in general. A special mention to Phil Thompson for one of the best albums I have ever listened to. 

Films: Logans Run, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, A Clockwork Orange, Westworld, Capricorn One, Zardos, The Andromeda Strain, The Man Who Fell to Earth, Space 1999, UFO, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Tron, Risky Business, 

Likes: Whiskey……..

Studio One 6. Production
Fractual Music Generator. - For creating WAV Files.
NCH Software. - Mixdown and loop creation.
Roland Zenbeats.
Korg Kaossilator.
AI Software
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Shit On A Blanket

zionlikealion - Songwrighter

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