Weekend Is Here
It is Friday over my side of the world.
My mind is filled with things to do for work and my weekend would have work to do.
Freedom from work to take a break can be a luxury.
While we have work to do, we can take a mind break by listening to music to destress.
The following tracks are a selection of the fantastic independent musicians that use AtomCollectorRecords.com:
Femme-poison [Wypernet and Lukowig] by Lukowig
Music and guitar: Wypernet soundcloud.com/laurent-toupet-930624560/tracks
Percussion, bass, synth, lyrics, vocal, mixing, mastering and illustration: Lukowig www.facebook.com/Lukowig/
LYRICS
Femme-poison
Ainsi je m'endors
contre les écailles de son corps
nacrées aux reflets d'or
bercé par la voix cristalline
de ma câline
et fatale créature marine :
ma femme-poison ma faille mon assassine.
Groggy je m'endors
contre les jambes poissonneuses
de mon empoisonneuse
car ce ne sont pas des lar-
-mes mais des dards
qui perlent de ses iris vertes :
du poison pour ma plus grande perte.
Ici je m'endors
en proie à une mort sûre
sous l'effet de ses morsures
car sa salive
tranchante et incisive
se diffuse dans mes veines :
du poison pour ma plus grande peine
du poison pour ma plus grande perte
du poison... du poison... du poison...
Sweet Sensation by lastravage
© Music & Lyrics By Last "Ravage" Opinion
© Image: "Convergent" Courtesy of Alenia
Lyrics:
Sweet sensation coming from the isle.
Leaving us no choice but to divide.
Soporific taste of our denial.
Heading for a new start.
Tell me another version of the story
to try and change my mind.
You say that I don't care enough for you.
I say that you don't care for me at all.
You are superlatively crossed with me.
I am definitely done with you.
But you're still here with me
and I am still here for you.
Sweet sensation coming from the isle.
Heading for a new start.
The Loneliest Place by Davy Vance
A track from 1st album 'Flying Solo'
LYRICS
Just sitting here imagining
Thinking on things we've said
Sitting here feeling everything
Yet hitting no nails on the head
It's hard to tell what you are thinking
'Cos I can't see your face
I can feel my heart sinking
Being almost home is the loneliest place
I may as well read your teacup
I may as well write another song
All of our conversations
Make it up as we go along
I'm a little drunk and belligerently kind
My spirit's on the wrack
I'm not sure what I will find
'Cos I getting nothing back
These days we speak a different language
And I'd rather run a mile
Than be the source of your anger
And the coldness of your smile.
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