2 - Medley Part One

I can smell it in the air.
I know there's nothing here. 
I held my hand for change,
but there was none left to give.

You will pay the toll.
One way or another,
you will pay the toll.

I stabbed the sky-
I drew a straight slit-
it's just what I thought,
it's just what I felt.
Remember the taste?
How it made you choke?
As all of their dreams,
Poured into your throat.

You collected them in your hands,
wove a sweater made of dreams.
But you forgot what you had promised,
you made sure you kept warm.
And your mouth it was a blanket,
that you spread over the sea.
Yea you kept warm, I know you kept it.
But you forgot about me.

I know, I don't blame you.
For every empty promise,
I blame myself.

I saw that line and I dared to cross it.
They wrapped me up and threw me in customs.
Ripped away my flesh, nothing but bone.
Bowed their heads, refused flash photography,
let a single tear drop, read me all my rights and said:
"You're too young to die."

 know, I don't blame you.
For every empty promise,
I blame myself.


3 - I Don't Blame You

4 - We are the stars..

CATCH THE ARROW IN YOUR CHEST,
OR IN THE BACK IF IT FITS YOU BEST
FOLLOW MY FOOTSTEPS THROUGH THE SNOW
THROUGH THE WOODS AND AWAY WE GO

so,
tell me...
who was right?

5 - THE GHOST

Prismatic

Grab My Shotgun

Not enough police.

every god damned week, we struggle
to make ends meet -while the poor protect the ones who seek-

fairytale evil:
to own all of the people,
have em microchippped
the church, the steeple, 
dead innocents are not illegal

America first.
We are the looters and shooters.
only blood cures the thirst,
Dont humor us losers.

you know they shot first
Plain Clothes Armed Intruders.


we turn the keys
we hatch the eggs
they grow disease,
they take our legs.

we fight for change
they stay the same
obsessed with us
but don't know our names.

you awoke and you dreamt
of something to steal
a house that you own
so it wasn't real

nothing adds up
it's clear we're fucked
if we're lucky to even get a loan.

pay until you're gray
or maybe pray for fair pay
pray for a calendar with Someday.

never pay your debt
so when there's no more time left
a protest lives on in your death.

America First

Old song I improved all the words to. Some clutch parts 4 sho.

MAYBE
SOMEDAY WE WILL LEARN
UNTIL THEN ALL OUR HOUSES HAVE TO BURN
MAYBE
SOMEDAY WE WILL LEARN
UNTIL THEN ALL OUR BUILDINGS HAVE TO BURN

We Deserve This

Old school Electronic collab. Stasia sings angelically at the end!

Written by:
Anastasia Kaschak
Zaid Martin
William Swartwood

Thought Police - Just For Us

Thought Police was an electronic collab by:
Anastasia Kaschak (listen for her angelic singing at the end)
Zaid Martin (prod by)
William Swartwood (prod by/vox)

Just For Us

Track one of upcoming EP/LP *not sure which yet*, Post Apocalypse.

Post Apocalypse

Technicolor Deathmarch of the Post Apocalypse(Final Draft)

From my upcoming EP, Hypothetical Summer. Hoping to have it on Spotify and Apple Music by the spring.

Lyrics:
One more day,
'til we're off for the weekend-
Then we're back in our beds again.
Five more days,
Until the weekend-
Tell me why we're alive my friend.
One more month-
'til I come undone,
Or until my paid vacation.
One more year-
'til I disappear,
Never see my dumb face again.

Every day it gets worse.
The suffering feels rehearsed.
Lay me down in my government-hearse.

Back to bed,
Back to work.

Can you see it now,
The unrest in the town?
The cops say to keep it down.
But keep growing,
Make sure to be loud,
Be a volume that they can't turn down.

This winter,
Post-Apocalypse,
It's the winter of no more love.
Last summer,
Was hypothetical,
The summer without a sun.

Every day it gets worse.
The suffering feels rehearsed.
Lay me down in my government-hearse.

Back to bed,
Back to work.

We're working on the weekend,
like our ancestors said we would not.
We're drowning in the deep end,
We've got heart even if it's been shot.

One thousand years of control-
But one thing that you'll never get:
We have never been comfortable,
And some days we pray for death.

Every day it gets worse.
The suffering feels rehearsed.
Lay me down in my government-hearse.

Back to bed,
Back to work.

Pull your bodies out of the dirt.
EMPATHY IS NOT A DISEASE.
Break down your government-hearse,
More wood for guillotines.

Ask not for whom the guillotine screams,
It screams for thee.

This track is getting closer to done, still hasn't been mastered and a few of the lyrics need to be changed (Changing the chorus lyric to company hearse instead of government hearse) and a few other minor tweaks. This is the best thing I have made thus far and I want people to hear what's coming.

I came across Superior Drummer 3, mainly because my friend DJ told me about EZ drummer. I didn't know there were drum sampling programs that can sound "human" like this. You can edit dynamics, you can edit velocity, it's truly mind blowing. I spent a pain-staking amount of time mapping out each of the fills and the beats to my liking. None of the pre-made beats worked for exactly what I wanted so I spent 10-12 hours just mapping those out, the tracks themselves were another solid 10 hours and then mixing it so far has been another 20 hours. A lot of my blood and sweat is going into my new album and my new music in general, but this is the new standard from now on. Sadly a lot of this has to be thrown out due to me singing the wrong direction at the mic but I digress.

Unrest in the post apocalypse.

William IV (Pronounced: William the Fourth)

Indie/Lo-fi/Experimental/Acoustic Folk
From Wilkes-Barre, PA

William IV

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