since-the-day 90s .mp3

If I write you a letter

Beast with in

Day dreams turned to nightmares

Britain took my dreams away

This song is a brutally honest reflection of a life weighed down by responsibility, injustice, and survival. It traces the journey of a working-class man growing older under pressure, carrying the burden of the system, the streets, and his own mistakes. From summer moments of feeling alive to winter nights that close in early, the track moves through prison gates, courtrooms, police sirens, and one-bed flats with no safety net beneath them. It speaks on being unheard, over-charged, and constantly judged, while still trying to provide, stay moving, and keep food on the table.

Writing becomes survival — shifting from pen and paper to phone notes, starting again and again, refusing to quit even when it feels pointless. The song weaves personal history, family struggle, displacement, faith, identity, and the scars of growing up too fast into a wider commentary on a system that punishes more than it supports. It’s about resilience without romanticising the pain, accountability without denying reality, and the hunger for peace in a world built on conflict.

This isn’t a story of a king or a hero — it’s the voice of a real man standing where he is, still learning, still fighting, still breathing. Not King Arthur.
Just Jamie Walkinshaw.

king-Arthur

Oblivion Core” is a raw, Tupac-inspired hip-hop track that dives deep into the mental and emotional weight of survival under pressure. The song explores life caught between freedom and incarceration, where the body may walk the streets but the mind remains imprisoned. Through honest, unfiltered lyricism, the track confronts injustice, systemic failure, personal loss, and the struggle to stay righteous in a world that profits from pain.

Driven by a reflective yet militant energy, “Oblivion Core” speaks for the unheard—those shaped by hardship, raised in survival mode, and forced to learn the rules only after being punished for breaking them. It’s a record about resilience, self-awareness, and choosing truth over silence, even when the odds are stacked.

More than just a song, “Oblivion Core” is a statement: a reminder that while the system can cage the body, it can never fully control the soul.

oblivion-cor

Destroyed by the oblivion  cor

This track is a powerful reflection on unity, survival, and the struggle of a generation caught between control and freedom. It speaks from the perspective of someone watching nations divided, people criminalised, and politicians protecting power while everyday lives are sacrificed. The lyrics confront the pressure placed on society, especially the younger generation, urging them to listen, stay aware, and remember that we’re still living despite the weight of the system.

At its core, the song is both a protest and a plea. Lines filled with exhaustion, nausea, and silence capture the mental toll of being ignored for too long, while the repeated refrain “so don’t go” becomes a cry for connection, resilience, and hope. It’s about refusing to give up, pressing forward instead of pausing, and trying to release something honest and peaceful even when everything feels like it’s gone wrong.

This is a song for those fighting quietly, surviving day by day, and holding on to life in a world that keeps pushing them back—an anthem of awareness, endurance, and unity.

taking-so-long

This track is a raw, soul-baring confession from the cold concrete of the council estate to the silence of prison walls. It tells the story of a man surviving loss, poverty, and a system designed to cage minds long before it cages bodies. Haunted by the absence of his “angel,” the song blends grief, resilience, and quiet defiance — a love letter to someone gone, and a lifeline to those still trapped in the same struggle.

With vivid imagery of empty pockets, sirens, and sleepless nights on cold streets, the lyrics expose the emotional weight of growing up unheard and unloved by the system. It speaks on generational hardship, institutional failure, and the psychological scars left by incarceration, while still holding onto hope as an act of rebellion.

This isn’t just a song — it’s survival music. A voice for the overlooked, the boxed-in, and the broken who refuse to disappear. Dedicated to an angel lost but never forgotten, the track stands as a reminder that even in the darkest conditions, there is still purpose, still breath, and still a way out.

angel

angel in heaven

Yeah…
Cold nights, empty pockets, heavy heart
This one’s for my angel… wherever you are

Missing my angel every time the sun fades
Concrete pillows, cold breath, council estate
Left me boxed in, prison walls in my head
Even when I’m free, still confined by the dead
No money in my pocket, just hope in my chest
They said life’s a test, but they rigged it from the start
Government lies, sirens singing lullabies
Mama crying in the kitchen, trying not to die inside

I was raised by the struggle, taught by the street
Learned early how hunger makes a man weak
I gave love to the world, world gave pain back
Now I’m writing to my angel through a pen and a crack

I’m screaming your name in the rain, do you hear me?
Cold streets raised me, prison nearly killed me
I’m trying to survive where the system don’t love me
Angel, guide me — don’t let this road judge me

They left me with nothing but a postcode and pride
Council blocks where dreams go quietly to die
I seen brothers turn ghosts, still walking alive
Eyes empty, soul broke, just waiting for time

I was locked in a cell while the world kept spinning
They call it justice, I call it conditioned
Teach us how to fail, then blame us for falling
Angel in my sleep, still hear you calling

You said, “Keep your head up, don’t fold to the pressure”
But pressure makes diamonds — or breaks you forever
I’m starving but focused, still aiming for better
Trying to escape this estate, this weather

I’m screaming your name in the rain, do you hear me?
Cold streets raised me, prison nearly killed me
I’m trying to survive where the system don’t love me
Angel, guide me — don’t let this road judge me

I seen kids with potential locked into statistics
Labels before choices, futures already restricted
They say work harder, but don’t open the gate
So we hustle for survival, then they call it a crime rate

I miss your smile when the nights got dark
You saw the man in me before I had a start
If I make it out alive, it’s for you I swear
From the council flats to the sky — I’ll meet you there

Every scar got a story, every tear got a reason
I’m still breathing, so I know I’m still needed
Angel watching over me when the lights go low
I ain’t done yet — please don’t go

To anyone trapped in the cold with a dream in their chest…
You’re not forgotten
This is survival music
Rest in love to my angel 🕊️

angel-where-are--you

This track is a raw descent from hope into disillusionment, charting the moment when daydreams curdle into nightmares and a familiar world turns hostile. Set against a backdrop of a fractured Britain, the song blends personal trauma with political rage, painting civilians as unwilling soldiers and ordinary streets as battlegrounds. Libraries become places without privacy, daytime collapses into night, and even angels are grounded in a world where East and West can’t unite.

The narrator wrestles with isolation, inherited pain, and the psychological scars passed down through generations shaped by war and ideology. Love, loyalty, and protection blur into control and violence, as crossed lines lead to confinement, broken families, and children pushed toward conflicts they didn’t choose. Historical references to British leadership and recruitment underline a cycle where power sends the young to fight while distance protects those in charge.

Driven by anger, paranoia, and a desperate search for meaning, the song captures the moment when patience snaps and survival becomes resistance. It’s not a celebration of violence, but a warning—an unfiltered expression of how fear, manipulation, and neglect can turn purpose into extremism. The repeated call to “stand and fight” echoes less as a rallying cry and more as a question: what happens when a nation leaves its broken behind?

Time To Fight For Purpose

Soviet Mind

Come home crying

This track is a raw reflection on growing up with promise and discipline, only to be worn down by a broken system that forgets its own people. Told through memories of youth, family sacrifice, and institutional neglect, the song moves between past and present—daydreams of what could’ve been and the harsh reality of what is.

The lyrics confront trauma, false accusations, mental health struggles, and the cold indifference of authority, while exposing the hypocrisy of politicians and systems meant to protect. Grief, homelessness, and survival run through every verse, but so does responsibility—raising children, protecting the next generation, and refusing to pass down the same pain.

Set against the backdrop of a fractured Britain, this song is both a personal confession and a social statement: a voice for those unheard, written in the dark, holding onto light, and dreaming of a better life even when everything says let go.

Seen out

Pollution In The Atmosphere

All On You

Desperate -State -Of - Mind

Good bye .mp3

Life I’m Living

Rise from silence

we-can’t-leave

trying-to-find-our-moment.mp3

Rid that ride for you .mp3

We Need Help” is a raw, unfiltered reflection on survival inside a system that profits from pressure and punishment. Through vivid storytelling, the track explores intrusive thoughts, broken loyalty, stolen royalties, and the emotional cost of poverty, prison, and separation from family. Raised in struggle and shaped by divided communities, the lyrics expose how media narratives, political agendas, and social inequality strip opportunity from entire generations.

The hook—“We need help”—isn’t weakness, it’s a protest. It echoes through verses that confront wrongful imprisonment, mental health battles, depression, and the fear of leaving children behind in a world that keeps repeating the same cycles. Balancing pain with growth, the song shows resilience, self-improvement, and belief in community despite systemic failure.

This isn’t just music—it’s testimony. A voice for families torn apart, for youth criminalised instead of supported, and for communities asking to be heard rather than silenced.

we-need-help.mp3

Bring Us Peace in the End is a raw and uncompromising reflection on growing up inside a broken system. The song captures the feeling of reaching a breaking point—where trust in friends fades, governments imprison civilians, and young men are forced to learn survival without ever being shown how to truly live or defend themselves.

Through vivid verses, the track exposes corruption in courtrooms, a prison system driven by profit, and a cycle where innocence is ignored and guilt is assumed. It speaks for those who feel criminalised simply for existing, sentenced again and again by institutions that refuse to listen.

At its core, this song is about generational damage—children left to protect their mothers, communities raised, used, and abandoned, and a society that only remembers you when it needs you. The repeated plea, “Bring us peace in the end,” is both a cry for justice and a final hope that the cycle can be broken.

This isn’t just music—it’s a statement, a testimony, and a demand to be heard.

bring-us-peace.mp3

it’s-ok.mp3

This song is a raw confession of love, loss, and spiritual survival. It tells the story of falling deeply in love only to be abandoned, left drowning in pain, and questioning whether love is ever enough. Through powerful imagery of angels, white doves, heaven, and hell, the track explores the battle between light and darkness—Lucifer versus faith, despair versus hope.

As the narrator grows older, the weight of the world becomes heavier, exposing vulnerability, fear, and exhaustion. Broken by pressure and haunted by the past, they find themselves alone in the rain, stealing wishes from a wishing well and sending them to the heavens in the hope that love will be protected, even if it’s no longer theirs.

The repeated plea of “Come Home” is both a cry to a lost lover and a call for inner peace. In the end, the song transforms pain into strength, declaring victory over the darkness and proving that angels are real—even when they walk away. This track is about survival, redemption, and holding on to faith when love feels just out of reach.

come-home.mp3

This song is a raw reflection on time, loss, and survival. It captures the feeling of watching life race past—where childhood dreams once felt limitless, but adulthood slowly turns possibility into struggle. Through memories of faith, hospital corridors, financial hardship, and feeling labelled as “unfixable,” the track speaks honestly about mental health and the weight of lived experience.

At its core, the song is about breath and gratitude. Even in the darkest moments, there’s a pause to acknowledge being alive—feet still on the ground, chest still rising, and the strength it takes to keep going. The verses mourn the loss of a father, the distance from old friends, and the quiet confusion that comes with trying to hold everything together when words fall short.

The repeated line “Baby don’t cry, we’re here by your side” acts as both a reassurance and a promise—offering comfort to loved ones, to listeners, and to the younger self still searching for hope. Vulnerable, reflective, and deeply human, this song turns pain into presence and reminds us that simply breathing can be an act of resilience.

here-by-your-side.mp3

This song is a raw, confessional journey through trauma, survival, and the fight to reclaim identity in a world that tries to suffocate it. Built around the repeated line “I can’t breathe,” the track captures the weight of mental health battles, institutional control, spiritual conflict, and generational pain, while refusing to surrender to them.

Through vivid imagery of imprisonment, misplaced faith, fractured family ties, and clinical labels, the lyrics expose how systems meant to protect can instead strip people of purpose and selfhood. The verses move between past and present—childhood promises, lost dreams, hospital rooms, and streets that harden hope—mirroring the chaos of a mind at war with itself.

Yet beneath the heaviness, the song is ultimately about endurance. Breathing becomes an act of rebellion. Every inhale is survival, every exhale a refusal to disappear. It’s a story of carrying grief, missing loved ones, questioning God, and still choosing to stay. “I Can’t Breathe” is not just about pain—it’s about the quiet victory of still being here, still believing, and still fighting for home, truth, and peace.

Walky

Pinned to spotlight

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