1. |
Plans
03:14
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in early morning hours, with a sun dawning in calming colours, a painting of green blue and orange, calling for him to see through what follows in this growing shine of yellow, hollowing him out laying across the meadows and taking the mellow scene, reminding to work and pay for mother machine, so he steps out from a dream, watching it rise through the ceiling never to be seen again, as a rooster screams to his hens the man can barely believe hi existence, screened through the lense just being used for systems bound to fail but rise once againce, so he's just sitting contemplating wether it all even makes sense with politicians that pretend to have plans only fishing for compliments and at the end of a day he'll still be washing the dishes between his tired hands; but only a curt time to think cuz there's always work on the brink of a day and well he blinks but it seems so sure to stay, wishing for a time when he could just lay under the blue sky, those yellow clouds, if he could swim back in time like trouts in water he wouldn't bother getting older like his father, but never sober rather everyday used to sleep, set on endless repeat, getting drunk smoking weed cuz anyway this life becomes monotony
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2. |
Saturday Nights
02:12
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somehow he's always ending saturday nights with masturbating, wide awaken from the amphetamines, faking the feeling of another human being, and all he's needing is a computer screen, greens to be dreaming of balling like charlie sheen, feeding on weed and nicotine, yes somehow always falling into the same old routine, the same cold scenes never controlled accordingly to match the bold dreams of another lonesome fiend, slowly drifting off to apathy; and somehow he can't find a way to fall asleep and it's only a short time till he's at work long days all week, well without money or talking to women techniques once he's drunk awkwardly funny, the outfit is on fleek, standing around with nothing to speak jut slightly moving his feet to the beat
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3. |
A Room
02:28
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nude in a room only brightened by the light of the moon, standing in darkness he simply has to ask if in one of these pharces he maybe chose the wrong path, with alcohol on his breath and empty aluminium foil on a desk, nothing left that could be used to rest his head amused and fill the hole in the chest that seems to be always left, wether visiting the scene or if he just stays in bed, instead he just fails to build any interest, nothing left to say but what did you expect; just staring out the window into the starlit sky, left in limbo for eternity and some extra time with noone by his side but a cone and a lighter, hoping that the sn won't rise, coping the mind by getting higher, inside burned in his bed laying on the pillow, curled up like a dead freeway armadillo, wondering where all of lifes thrills go, pondering about it at the same time he just chills at home
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4. |
Resting
02:01
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and all he's percieving in the shimmering air of another lonesome evening as he chokes on lingering smoke and despair, the changing of seasons the sound of a slow heart beating but his empty stare just rests with eyes on the ceiling his headphones filled with gucci man laflare, and he's wondering where to go when everyone considered close decided to take the road and he's just sitting stoned around at home rather smoking a pound than going out or getting a cellphone number; but isn't it strange how day by day nothing seems to change but looking back in old age well he's wondering how different things became, where they lost their way or if he's just sloly going insane with noone left to take the blame but the creature that rests with his name
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5. |
Golden Smoke
03:09
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standing wilded out on the terrace, higher than the clouds in his parents backyard, an errant mind witout carings destined to drown in the blackness that surrounds these stars, feeling so small compared to how distant he found himself from mars bound to this existence from the start never resting to fall apart just to show him a sure card of what's flowing from the heart to leave a hollowness in this chest standing in midst of white fields a being left in silent emptiness and he's wondering if it's still his guest laying lonesome in this bed trying to smoke off the stress every second closer to the morning ahead so the darkness the sky holds came through to him her tight coat woven from golden smoke and hopes of a silver lining it's been told as he wrapped it right around a mind waiting for something to unfold all it kinda showed where the same old cells he knows, and there was noone present who spoke in the backyard in the cold as the water broke free and ran in tears down from his cheeks "all you need is a patient flow" he heard echoing from somewhere long ago, every action percieved so slow as ancient hyms started to grow, all this time she never spoke, leaving him wondering if he just lost a minds controll, erased from the place he stood merely two seconds ago
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Usually Just A T-Shirt Normandy, France
UsuallyJustAT-Shirt is my one man project, being simply equipped with a Guitar and awkward Lyrics, playing songs about very short moments in time and how they relate to the past and the future I guess. Trying to combine the sounds of MF Doom, Johnny Hobo and Mississippi John Hurt into one, with a great love for the Blues I'm just trying to find my sound and hope to reach some people along the way. ... more
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