all lined up and ready to go :) very cool!!

Version II only at...
https://neurologickthunder.bandcamp.com/album/great-enigma-manifestation

PerpetuALight - Kairo Contemplation / Great Enigma Manifestation

UNE ROUTE QUI DÉROUTE À CIEL OUVERT
L’AUTOMNE QUI S’ÉTONNE D’ÊTRE DÉJÀ L’HIVER
DANS LE NOIR OÙ SCINTILLENT LES YEUX JAUNES D’UN CHAT
LA FILLE SE DÉSHABILLE SE GLISSE SOUS TES DRAPS

ET MOI 

UNE ROUTE SOUS LA VOUTE INTERSTELLAIRE
LA LUNE QUI S’ALLUME AU CLAIR DE LA TERRE
LA FILLE SE RHABILLE ELLE NE REVIENDRA PAS 
HEY MEC RAMASSE TES BILLES ET PUIS MEC OUBLIE LA
 
ÇA BRILLE LÀ-HAUT ÇA SCINTILLE MAIS ÇA N’AVEUGLE QUE TOI
LE SOLEIL EN BAS RÉSILLE ME CASSE LA GUEULE DE BOIS

UNE ROUTE QUI DÉROUTE À CIEL OUVERT
UN CAMION QUI CAMIONNE À TOMBEAU OUVERT

UNE ROUTE 71 (Lyrics)

Out of the Box June 2022
Pretty maids... so happy

Pretty Maids All In a Row

Nomad

Uh Oh, Look Who's Doin' DXM Again!

Super fun little ditty I did. Looking for colabs. Reach out for tracks or just DL and have.fun but please no slurs or misogyny.

HERDY GERTIE, MAN.

UPRIGHT CITIZEN [Open To Collabs]

Track 0 21-12-2022

Panel

Solo guitar - LeoMReznik. My next blues improvisation with backing tracks.

SoulJamBlues

A slow, solemn piano piece. Free time with bird song and ambience.

Sierra

Vincent's words:
'This work is a revision of a collaboration between Italian poet & sound artist https://soundcloud.com/ilaria_boffa and Italian-American Composer https://soundcloud.com/vincent-eoppolo/. Morirà Il Sole? (When Will the Sun Die) is a poem from Ilaria Boffa's 2016 collection of of poems The Bliss of Hush and Wires. www.samueleeditore.it/periferie-the-…laria-boffa-2/ ©2016

Will the Sun Die?
When will it die? This sun,
oblique.
It’s temperate in the neighbourhood, and not for long.
Immaterial the future of the insurgents
the ones who calm winter.
We don’t sleep, the collapse is near.
So virtual any step toward and outward the centre.
Neglected in the static village
dogs move unsettled, they smell the reversal.
Mowing grass in the fields will be pointless soon
as the aseptic film packs on the leaf and the brick.
Give us green clay to cover our skins, our hair.
Give us one more tomorrow.

Morirà il Sole?
Quando morirà? Questo sole
obliquo.
È mite il tempo nel quartiere e non per molto.
Immateriale il futuro di chi insorge
di coloro che calmano l’inverno.
Non dormiamo, il crollo è vicino.
Così virtuale ogni passo da e per il centro.
Dimenticati nel paese statico
i cani si muovono irrequieti, annusano l’inversione.
Falciare l’erba dei prati sarà presto inutile
come porre una pellicola asettica sulla foglia e il mattone.
Dateci argilla verde per coprire pelli, capelli.
Dateci ancora un domani. Ilaria Boffa © 2016
@ilaria_boffa

Pretty Maids All In a Row

Open the Box

Recent comments

LUDO

past is the verse

Magi©ian™ (Making music make a difference)

muterial

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