It is said that the mind
is very terrible to taste
I left this puny point of view behind
for I have this question chased
Although they shut the wooden door
and closed the iron bars
I am here as I was before
A sun among the stars
The benevolent fluttershy
has taken my concentration
I float freely
into the arms of my patron
Both mer and men walk even ways
From birth to death they pace
But long ago I insisted
On a diff'rent path so twisted
I sing my song in Solitude
In a world so cold and brute
To the madgod as his servile child
The one to keep my soul beguiled
White devils boogie on my hair
whispering of day and light
Their madsongs fill the chilly air
opening my fetters wide
But they strapped the iron chain
and bound me to my bed
they framed my aching brain
and trapped me in my head
The malevolent butterfly
has stolen my focus
I drift exhausted
Into the arms of my patron
Ben Wheeler uses an East German synthesizer and a Soviet flanger to create hauntingly weird yet bright and open electronic soundscapes. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 10, 2022
Yorkshire songwriter and guitarist Kindelan explores life's in-between moments on a debut EP of soulful and sweet jazz. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 1, 2023