Name: Trampen und Trödeln - Maria Wach by Maria Wach in Your Mix 2
Duration: 2 min 49 s
Description: Einfach ins Blaue fahren, so ganz ohne Stress? Wär mal wieder schön? Ich hab den perfekten Soundtrack dazu - "Trampen und Trödeln"

G'schmeidiges Lied, es hat sogar den Aprilschnee vertrieben :D

Your Mix 2

Seasons Of Her Soul

Autumn Chorale - Waiting for Christmas
I didn't plan words for this song. Everyone can imagine a text in their own language!

Waiting for Christmas (Corale d'autunno)

Waiting For Christmas (Corale D'autunno)

Cloudy

Flipside-Stone Pony

Einfach ins Blaue fahren, so ganz ohne Stress? Wär mal wieder schön? Ich hab den perfekten Soundtrack dazu - "Trampen und Trödeln"

Trampen und Trödeln

Trampen und Trödeln - Maria Wach

Lyrics by Destiny Seppä & Under The Bad Sign

Check this out!
Poetry & lyrics by Destiny Seppä:
https://finnpoet.wordpress.com/

Silver Lines

Music by Paploviante
https://soundcloud.com/paul-racle

Vocals & Lyrics by Cosmic Keanu

It's Not Too Late

He tests our hearts
Puts us through the flame
What burns is forever lost
Gold is what remains

We are the temple
In Him, all the same 
Every heart must choose
To embrace Him or to blame

It’s not too late
To know the Truth
And find the Way

The accuser feeds us lies
Gives us reason to hate
While time passes
We progress toward the grave

Refined as silver
Tested as gold
God is of the spirit
This world’s already cold

Passing through the veil
all comes to light
Standing in His presence
Who’d choose to deny?

Everything’s not so mundane
See miracles every day
Minds set on trivial things
Divided, we betray

Jesus taught love
Kingdom is within
Let go of everything
Dividing you from Him

It's Not Too Late (Paploviante & Cosmic Keanu)

Otie the ghost

The Chase

We all got them, some just can’t be seen……………cheers for having a listen


A constant reminder
A memory from afar
Now etched in time
My permanent scars

There’s another side to me
That you don’t really know
But if you look real hard
There’s a story to be told

And if it’s not what you wanna see
You can look away
They’re always gonna be there
My scars are here to stay

They been years in the making
Star of their own show
I can’t ask them to leave
Like me they got nowhere to go

A constant reminder
A memory from afar
Now etched in time
My permanent scars

My Scars

Much Was Said

Triple C.Killer or Duke (AntiCommunist Cowboy Clown Killer) lies on the cold, unforgiving table, the harsh fluorescent lights above him feel too bright, piercing through the darkness of his past that he can’t escape. The straps dig into his wrists and ankles, a reminder of the control he once had over others, a power that now slips away like sand through his fingers. It is May 9, 1994, and he knows that time has ticked down to its final moments; the impending lethality of the injection looms larger than his regrets. Near him stands Father Tommy, but in the Duke's disturbed mind, he is more than a preacher. This is Tommy Zygote, the enigmatic founder of Thrashing Zombies. The Duke chuckles quietly, the irony of seeking solace from someone who might turn his story into a twisted anthem not lost on him. As the IV needle pierces his skin, the Duke feels an unsettling pang of vulnerability wash over him. Memories flood in: the faces of the boys, the laughter that filled his home, now mere echoes of a haunted past. Once a celebrated community figure, he now lies bare on this table with nothing but shame to adorn him. “Father,” he begins, words slurring with a mix of fear and catharsis. “I didn’t know I was lost until they started to disappear.” Each word scrapes against his soul. He recalls the terrible grip he had on life, snuffing out the lights of so many young men, intertwined with memories of a stunted childhood where the shadows of his father loomed large, twisted lessons learned through fear. Father Tommy listens, eyes piercing yet strangely understanding. The Duke’s mind drifts, racing through 1970s Chicago, the bustling streets, the secrets whispered behind closed doors, the nights when he donned clown makeup to entertain children. In stark contrast, he realizes his mind housed a jester’s facade that concealed a monster. Heat from the lethal cocktail intensifies as he begins to shake, heart pounding faster. “I wanted to be loved, Tommy,” he confesses, tears breaking through his bravado. “But all I found was this emptiness… this insatiable hunger that gnawed at me.” Each moment ticks by, the weight of time pressing upon him. The Duke remembers the thrill of a hunt, chilling highs that flickered like distant stars, only to fade into the bleak darkness he now inhabits. The taste of blood and betrayal intertwines in his mind, recollections morphing into nightmares swirling around him. “I don’t want to die, not like this,” he murmurs, voice shaky and uncertain. “I wish I could take it all back. I wanted to be someone… anyone.” The IV fluid drips steadily, pulse thrumming louder against the silence surrounding him. “Your sins can’t be unmade, but you can find peace if you truly seek it,” Father Tommy responds, his voice laced with an odd blend of compassion and authority, something the Duke didn’t expect from the man he imagined was merely a conduit to the afterlife. Conflicted emotions swirl; how could peace exist when he has sown chaos? The seconds stretch as if mocking him, every tick resonating within the confines of his torment. As the final wave of the drug courses through him, the Duke’s resolve softens; he feels a strange acceptance settle in, the fabric of his existence unthreading, revealing the faces of his victims one last time. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, not just to Father Tommy, but to the universe, to the innocent lives extinguished by his hands. The world fades, colors dulling like a scene from one of those horror films he admired. “Forgive me,” he whispers, surrendering to the oblivion that beckons him, drowning out the remnants of his broken psyche as death embraces him like a lover he never knew. In those final moments, the tortured mind of the Duke falls silent, enveloped in darkness, leaving behind only echoes of questions reverberating through the void. Tommy leaned down and sung, "You anticommunist motherfucker, Elizabeth Proctor was innocent".

What`s for breakfast

Tripple C Killer

Triple C.Killer.

Sometimes loving yourself is the love you need the most.

A fractured heart was all I knew
But now I'm finding something new
Left a trail of broken dreams
I carried them, 
carried them, 
carried them through

I'm unafraid of who I am
This mind’s a map, not foreign land
The silence turns to steady streams
It carries me, 
carries me, 
carries me true

I gave all the love I had
For something real, not something sad
Small-town soul with a world to claim
I broke the cycle, rewrote the game

Now I see, now I see
Loving me was the key for me

How many stars have lost their glow?
Letting them go was all I’d known
Saw the dawn 'fore the night was gone
Still I carried, I carried, I carried on

Now I see, now I see
Loving me was the key for me

Now I see, now I see
Loving me was the key for me

I don’t need those chains, I’m free now
Off this ride, I’ll take the lead now

Now I see, now I see
Loving me was the key for me

Now I see, now I see
Loving me was the key for me

Loving Me

Ninety nine air balloons
When the lies come raining down

like every dry season comes the monsoon
All the ugly will perish, the truth will wear the crown

Ninety nine air balloons
The earth will be flat(once again) 
and ships will be crashing down(no more crazy captains)

No one on the helm a cruise to no mans land
No more control, no more rules to bend

Ninety nine air balloons
Your burden is lifted
This curse, on this earth, shifted(Hold on my dear)

Ninety nine air balloons
When the lies come raining down

like every dry season comes the monsoon
All the ugly will perish, the truth will wear the crown

Ninety nine air balloons
So many beautiful colors but colorless
Like music it doesn't discriminate

Ninety nine air balloons
No more borders only free states.

A small nod to the song 
Nena 99 Luftballons (1983)

Lyrics by Amarya Illude

99 Air Balloons

Late December

“Singing with the Dead Tonight” 
Deborah Goldbaum Kelly & Erin Wolf © 2025 
Song A Week 2025 - Week 48

caught inside a whirlwind
wind knocked out our lungs
lungs pushed to their limits
limits we’ve put on

on the other side of sunrise
sunrise screaming through 
through the pieces of a life
living with the ghost of you	

you tried to show me how 
how to live within the truth
truth in a world of lies
lies we hope to survive

surviving my mercy mile
miles from what we could see 
seeing now with open eyes
eyes like yours and  like mine

one more laugh, one more cry, and song
never truly on my own
one more chance to try and get it right
singing with the dead tonight 

beyond the veil, I can hear you
your whispers in the night
nightly visits linger on
on until the early morn

mourning and letting go
going slowly as it comes
coming home after all
all in time, we will			

one more laugh, one more cry, and song
never truly on my own
one more chance to try and get it right
singing with the dead tonight 

one more laugh, one more cry, and song
never truly on my own
one more chance to try and get it right
singing with the dead tonight 

Singing with the Dead Tonight (with Deborah Goldbaum Kelly & Erin Wolf)

ÇAY TAŞI ÇAKMAK TAŞI - Celo Boluz   Paul Dwyer Yorumuyla -  Pauldwyerilesahnedeyiz

⚡ Synthwave energy unleashed! ⚡ Shock the Algorithm returns with a brand NEW album — Ultraviolet Cosmos.
https://shockthealgorithm.bandcamp.com/album/ultraviolet-cosmos

🌌 Available NOW on Bandcamp — grab your digital copy today and step into the neon! 🌌

Music from Austria - from
my soul to the world. 💙

https://www.facebook.com/marieistwach
instagram: _marieistwach_

https://youtube.com/channel/UCTYTdFAiNWlkedzF4gx7y4g

Trampen und Trödeln - Maria Wach

Maria Wach

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