I love the smell of bread
the way that dandelions ride the wind
and sitting barefoot on a rock
as the sea lashes out to draw me in

I love the sound of rain
descending like a veil across the lake
the staredown from a crow
the chisel marks of revenant mistakes

and these are not all the things that I love

there’s the play of shade and light 
when a shiny car slinks down a row of trees
there’s the first sip from the coffee cup
and all the conversations had by strings and keys

the mossy darkness of the cellar stairs
just close your eyes
and every monster will smell of wine and cheese
fermenting plums and pears
those village skies
painting a stampede of galaxies

I love a bridge of stone
its arches getting stronger as we pass 
two lightnings crossing paths
running fingers through damp disheveled grass

I love a narrow street
with balconies parading many lives
slow Sunday afternoons
the chugging of a train when it arrives

and these are not all the things that I love

there’s the pepper and the salt
raining down on a steaming bowl of stew
birdsong threatening the morning calm
ships shimmering far off into the blue

the distant clamor of a busy square
just close your eyes
and every plan will seem made of matchstick hopes
with scotch-taped prayer
you hold your own hand
and even that’s not guaranteed

I love a mighty, fallen tree
that’s generously rotting in the shade
discolored postcards from long ago
rough carpets with edges that are frayed

and these are not all the things that I love
no, these are not all the things that I love
not all the things
not all the things

Support Gom

Not All The Things

Washington DC Underground on the productive Wednesday Morning at Studio DC

So there is a Wednesday - Morning Sessions at The Studio DC - Maximiliano & Mikey J (7-30-25)

Made this remix for another Skio remix competion hope you all enjoy. #skiomusic

Bad dreams (Dj Mcvibes Remix)

EVERYTHING

ooowwwwwe.m4a

You're Forgotten Now (Mad Hatter Ending)

how it should b

zip zip clairvoyant

*The world can feel dark sometimes, full of noise, full of selfishness. But every now and then, you meet people who are just… kind. No agenda, no games,just real, good hearted souls. This track is for them.

“Not Forgotten” is deep house with space to breathe. The beat drives steady, the bass holds you close, and the vocals slip in like quiet reminders: “Not forgotten… hearts still golden… love remains.”

It’s a groove for late nights and long journeys, but it’s also a message: in this rotten world, kindness still exists ,and it matters. The good people are not forgotten.*

Not Forgotten

FIND ME ON SPOTIFY
https://open.spotify.com/artist/21qss6cNeb4tFDyGRRhIQ0?si=-GlwtIYxTSmqq_7G0e4hnQ

Verse 1
What is time
but a whisper slipping past my ribs?
I watch the minutes fall
like dust I can’t hold in my fists.
Every morning feels the same—
same cup, same stare, same sigh.
I keep dreaming of the stars,
but I never seem to reach the sky.

Pre-Chorus
I keep waiting for the cards
to fall neatly in my lap,
but they scatter on the floor
and I can’t make sense of that.

Chorus
Time keeps slipping, slipping—
right between my fingers.
Monotony wraps around me,
a shadow that always lingers.
I’m dancing through this 9 to 5,
too tired to realign.
Dreaming of the stars,
but I’m always running out of time.

Verse 2
Some days I wonder
if I’m growing or just drifting.
I feel the years pressing down—
quiet, heavy, shifting.
I trace constellations
on the cold glass of a train,
watching moments pass me by
that I’ll never get again.

Pre-Chorus
I keep waiting for the cards
to fall neatly in my lap,
but fate keeps shuffling sideways
and I can’t keep track.

Chorus
Time keeps slipping, slipping—
right between my fingers.
Monotony wraps around me,
a shadow that always lingers.
I’m dancing through this 9 to 5,
too tired to realign.
Dreaming of the stars,
but I’m always running out of time.

Bridge
Tell me—
is there meaning hiding somewhere
in these hours I survive?
Is there a way to hold the moment,
to feel a little more alive?

Final Chorus
Time keeps slipping, slipping—
a quiet thief I can’t outrun.
And I’m still not sure
if my story has even begun.
Still dancing through this 9 to 5,
still waiting for a sign,
still dreaming of the stars
before I run out of time.


how it should b

WickedMurder©