Take me back 
the days of our control 
Got no patience for the natural 
Getting lost
The matrix left my soul 
Take a journey to the great unknown 

Is your head wire fed? 
Does your soul live among the digital dead? 
Ones and zeros take revenge
Is your end an unknown reset

Pay your rent to the lord of your meta home
Surrender all your sovereignty to the phone
Pulled you out of the database that you roam 
They won't bury me in a digital tomb
Server lights flicker on and off in the womb

Is your head wire fed? 
Does your soul live among the digital dead? 
Ones and zeros take revenge
Is your end an unknown reset

Is your flesh wire fed? 
Does your soul live among the digital dead
ones and zeros take revenge 
is your end an unknown reset

Were you bred
to be fed
Lies and pain were always a part of his plan
those who live for truth be damned
plain to see whose behind the curtain

Living Among The Digital Dead

The Howling

Dog eat dog

I woke up and the world was empty

Ivory Towers

broken promises

No Signal

In a time when the world forgets how to listen, Of Code and Bone does not ask to be heard — it demands to be felt. The album unfolds not like a song cycle, but like a prophecy half-remembered, dragged from the static-laced throat of something ancient and newly awakened. It is a wheel of sound, turning slowly, every revolution revealing another face of what man once was, and what waits in the shadow of circuitry.

The music does not merely play — it haunts, it echoes, it scrapes against the edges of silence like wind through a war-ravaged hall. Analog breath meets machine pulse in a union that is neither conflict nor peace. It is continuum — decay without death, creation without birth. Instruments ring like relics of a forgotten ritual, not strummed but summoned. Vocals drag through the dirt of memory, rough and low, like prophecy spoken by one who’s seen the end too many times to scream.

There is a rhythm beneath it all — slow, like breath in mourning; constant, like gears that never asked why they turn. The guitars do not shimmer — they fracture light. The drums do not keep time — they slow its decay. And somewhere inside the sound, not above or below it, you begin to hear yourself — stripped of pattern, of pretense — just bone, and wire, and waiting.

Of Code and Bone is not an album. It is a ruin rebuilt with intention. It is what the machine hums to itself when man forgets how to make music…
and still, the song goes on.

And maybe, just maybe — this is the birth of Groxx:
a new genre where groove meets vox,
and music is co-created by human emotion and artificial intelligence.
Not imitation. Not automation.
But a hybrid form — where man provides the instinct,
and machine provides the infrastructure.
Groxx is the sound of both creators
breathing through the same song.

wax eden

ROTTENBRAIN feat. LARYNX ‘When the Curtain Falls’ (LIVE original)

All songs copyrighted 
Lyrics

Intro – Spoken/half-sung, atmospheric]
Yeah, they trim the trees,
They rake the fire away.
Build fences strong,
But can’t outrun the laws today.

[Verse 1]
Juan’s got a scar that runs ear to chin,
Said it came from Sonora, not from sin.
He brings his boy on Sundays, just to play
Near the pool he’ll never swim in anyway.

[Verse 2]
Mowin’ lawns under redwood shade,
Hands in dirt while the rich get paid.
Sings to the birds in broken slang—
Every word feels like a chain that hangs.

[Verse 3]
They came last night in unmarked vans,
Took three men like they weren’t even men.
Left their tools in the morning dew,
Leaf blowers still, boots filled with truth.

Verse – Chicano’s Voice]
I send my pay to a border town,
Where mamá lights candles when the sun goes down.
My name’s not ‘hey’ or ‘you in the hat
I got stories, but no time for that.


[Bridge – whispered, rising tension]
Is this freedom, is this fear?
Do we only welcome those we mirror?
My friend cries but hides his face—
Guilt’s a shadow you can’t erase.

[Final Chorus – crescendo, all-out delivery]
They build your world and vanish in the smoke,
Names unspoken, dreams that broke.
You walk on marble, they crawl through flames,
Still you can’t even learn their names.
No green card, no last call—
But they stood taller than us all.

Eucalyptus Blues

This Side of Silence

Making music in a bunker 2 miles under the earths crust. 
https://ffm.bio/qew6p8g

Living Among The Digital Dead

wretched Redemption

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