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excerpt from Muss i denn (Swabian folk song by Friedrich Silcher 1827)

lyrics

- Under Suburban Neon Lights

Walk the empty street under the suburban neon lights,
Where darkness and solitude intertwine on lonely nights.
The flickering glow casts shadows upon the asphalt below,
Whispering tales of forgotten dreams and hearts that once did glow.

Each step echoes softly, a symphony of hollow sounds,
As ghosts of memories linger, floating above the hallowed grounds.
The neon signs adorn the thoroughfare, painting the silence in hues,
A vibrant palette of electric shades, a nocturnal muse.

With each stride, the night reveals its secrets profound,
Stories untold they whisper, as the moon bathes the path around.
The streets, a labyrinth abandoned by the living, a realm of the past,
Hauntingly beautiful, a vision so surreal, it's hard to grasp.

A whisper in the wind, a distant laugh that fades away,
The mystery unravels, like a thread in a midnight ballet.
No bustling crowds or car horns, no chaos to defile,
Just the melody of solitude, igniting an eternal smile.

The suburban neon lights, keep the darkness at bay,
Guiding lost souls and wanderers, showing them the way.
In this empty street, a symphony of solace plays,
A refuge for the weary hearts, where hope gently sways.

So walk the empty street, under the suburban neon lights,
Where solitude and serenity dance in the moonlit nights.
For in the stillness of the silence, a poet's heart will find,
Inspiration, tranquility, and a peace of mind.

- Child in the tree.

She and he, made love in a tree, in face of an apartement building, for all to see.
He became her, and she became he, for all those who stared, for all to see.
Later that year, a child came to be. Born in a bathroom, could be conceived, right there in that tree, some early morning, the 6th of the 7th of V .
With roaring thunder, and lightning to see, he came to this world, of all places to be.

- Fifteen Steps to Damocles.

Rare, but today they’re still found:
Pearls of Pure Compassion.
With Waves of Colour and Sound.

With Sticks, Twigs, and Flowers in her Hair,
She dances in circles, spirals and squares.
She coils up the curtains and anywhere she goes,
The soil is ignited by her fiery toes.

Fifteen Steps away from me.
My Brain is now a Burning Tree.
The Grass and Footsteps are combining.
I Dream I am the Unborn Enemy…

Black Poisoned Darts in all directions.
Mine will hurt, so I might keep them.
Approximate Communications.
Appropriate Alliterations. Eloquence to great perfection…
Estimates on Big Production,

The Speaking in Tongues on the TV, I close my eyes.
6 6 6 jumping Sheep to Shear… I close my Ears.
Your crying face, melting to pudding, I close my mind.
The door to the inside, cosy and nice.

Far from the River Stix or the Salty Black Sea,
You bring me Wine, but I just want Coffee...
This is my life, my groove, my Feng Shuwy.
And I’m not really fond of plastic-wrapped Sushi.

Peripheral Shadows, Vision’s Blurred.
Was it a Drone, we saw or heard?
Chimes in the wind, Chirping Birds…
I’m Pissing Poison and Pissing Hurts.

Twirling twigs and waves of faces in the dust.
I will stay here for a while, in gravity I trust.
With a mouthful of foliage, and flowers in my Hair.
There’s a quite vertical horizon. I stare, at a fallen chair.

- A Moonlit River.

Life is as a River, so it seems.
Of Broken Hearts and Broken Dreams.
Heading for the Falling Mist.
From early Spring to final Twist.

Baring Witness to the Fall,
The Only One, who made a Call.
A Hunting Owl with Sharp Tall Claw.
Killed Rat and Hare, Great and Small.

And I am on the Other Side.
The Moonlit River, Running Wild.
Looking at the Final Twists
of Rat or Hare, in Darkened Mist.

Life is as a River, so it seems.
Running Red in Bleeding Streams.
And All of what was Left to Share,
Were pieces of a Rat or Hare.

Life is as a River, or so they say.
No turn Back… to point A .
The grimy Boat floats in One Way.
From Well to Sea … the Final Day?

© 2023 M.H.J.Burghgraeve

credits

from Under Suburban Neon Lights, released September 13, 2023

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all rights reserved

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about

Somnambulist image

Somnambulist Belgium

Mark Hélèné Joseph Burghgraeve was born in 1961.

From young age, he tampered with electronics.
His first "performances" were feedback patches on a broken amp, and self made effects.
He got his first synth, sequencer and a Vocoder and formed M.BRYO & D.M.T. and later Somnambulist.
2005, KOYT!
2020, a Live Stream on TV Centraal.
2023, music used in the television series "1985" on VRT max. ... more

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