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1. The Ghost Series - tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs {Demos}

The Ghost Series - tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs {Demos}

CONNECT @ Facebook In a dusty room an age ago, two hyper-intelligent beings scratched a rough series of tracks into the soul of a dying computer. These tracks perhaps, form the resonant basis of work yet to filter the speaker-wires...the ghosts of these formative tunes appear here for you to listen to. Beats by tr0uble07 / Verbals by Joe Kovacs.

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2. Infallible - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

Infallible - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

In a dusty room an age ago, two hyper-intelligent beings scratched a rough series of tracks into the soul of a dying computer. These tracks perhaps, form the resonant basis of work yet to filter the speaker-wires...the ghosts of these formative tunes appear here for you to listen to. Beats by tr0uble07 Words by Joe Kovacs --------------- LYRICS --------------- I penetrate the moments and the pictures visual, Focus on drifting between the fissures and walls of my brain, Witness liquid droplets of rain in the wind that fall and drip, staining the grey windowsill and cornices like ink, I change day to day, but remain the same, The buses still don’t run on time, but the routes have blatantly changed, I’m holding onto to the dreams I made, in the maze of metropolis, where babies deface graves and spray shops with bricks, And all I own is the air in this room, Yo the heating’s broke or only on the lowest setting, Yo my phones always low, with no reception with no credit, so I make a ‘doo doo‘ tone an go and get it…….. ‘Hello it’s me, I’m your soul and spectre, The ghost in your shell, nomad and shepherd, don’t let this life wear you down or grind you slowly, 'Cause each life alone is divine and holy,” So I disowned my mind and wandered errant Found my soul, bound and tethered, Took it home and set it, square in my mandible, and swore to hold of it tight and fill it with magic until my hands were full, When I wander lonely as a figment of my own imagining, Carried in the twin hands of calamity and tragedy, Grabbing me until my fractured bones are broken and sagging in. beaten and crushed by gravity, reduced to dust in cavities, my poems whisper relief and a remedy to the witness of these words, Sitting penning sheets, whittling pictures in birch, breathing in substance from the ether and traffic, Breathing out a stream of fever like steam and snatched it, Pin it captured to my coloured eyes, like a butterfly caught in the pages of a album or book, But how can I look when the clouds are showering undoubtable brooks, drowning in cascades and colour and sound as it shook, My craft is part of my character, This music these bars are marking my stamina, These words are my art and my heart is infallible, I play the game of Spartan architect, casting nets with the sharks in the darkest depths, to catch the half regrets harboured with the marvellous, that hurt my heart and head I search the stars instead to read the leaves that burn and bead the heavens, And ask the green and turquoise seas these 3 questions: where will I go when I sleep the sleep of the sleepless seeking the deepest secrets of eve, where would I be if I slipped under the sheets and disappeared through the cracks to Genesis to be received?

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3. Biro Fiction - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

Biro Fiction - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

In a dusty room an age ago, two hyper-intelligent beings scratched a rough series of tracks into the soul of a dying computer. These tracks perhaps, form the resonant basis of work yet to filter the speaker-wires...the ghosts of these formative tunes appear here for you to listen to. Beats by tr0uble07 Words by Joe Kovacs --------------- LYRICS --------------- Everyday in this sodden Sodom's like a robbery, Methodically watching where your body be, When you're plodding the rotten streets of this colony, Components from your souls are sold like stock commodities, Monotony's the lock and key, Ticking clocks hide the drop down the rocks into poverty, Hollow with no bodily, swallowing their dreams, And we can’t stop the wars ‘cause they don’t feed us properly, Operation shock the population, Mr Spock the optic nerves, Intoxicated with these shots of hops and herbs, This is not inoculation but the opposite of clotting agents gotten served, Now the words lost like a sloppy copied document Watch, I interpret the world, searching the dirt for the pearls, Packs are lurking yearning to search ya pockets for gold, The worlds burning outside, we’re personal shopping from home?! What’s more important, self-determining futures, Or burgundy pelts of fur to furnish your rooms with? I heard those gibbering tongues in bilious slums, Turning too useless and killing for funds, it’s terminal stupid. Nerves severed and permanent bruises, Whilst your earnings are scooped up by super computers learning your secrets, The Church is burning my speeches, The sermons I'm preaching are skewed like Copernicus’s earliest teachings, Tanks unload police, anxiously patrol the streets, We never see cause we’re comatose too deep, Conflicting missions of villainous mystical systems exist, “Fulfilling thy will”, civilian living is hell, Imprisonment in the pick of the busiest cells, The prisoners bicker but never discover they’re imprisoned in jail, You think it’s biro-fiction? The pictures eyeholes missing, With a microphone picking up my rhyme flow – listen, Wiretap the minds of the masses, Spy drones capture analyse the strides and the patterns I walk, If my patterns are caught I react erratically stagger and fall, Haphazardly damaging the capitals walls, Wolves dressed in glamorous shawls and are gorging on kids, The killers are stalking the mist, Dwelling with devils who talk through your walkmans as hiss, Calling ‘crawl into smallest box, you’re all born contortionists!’

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4. Where Do We Go - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

Where Do We Go - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

In a dusty room an age ago, two hyper-intelligent beings scratched a rough series of tracks into the soul of a dying computer. These tracks perhaps, form the resonant basis of work yet to filter the speaker-wires...the ghosts of these formative tunes appear here for you to listen to. Beats by tr0uble07 Words by Joe Kovacs --------------- LYRICS --------------- It’s that silent struggle, Eyes wide disguised in stubble, The tempest grew now we’re strewn like island rubble, Huddled close enclosed in the arms of others, Like a mother hugging her child who shudders, Cause another has died for the juggle of money In the jungle where we’re running from the diplomats, Kids with increasing levels of angst, Levelling their eyes now the whip has cracked and we’re treading the isles, Buying shopping and we’re fired and the fire in your eyes is smothered, You’re alive but by the measure of the wild your blind and sluggish, Acquired a taste for gold, now your tired and steered by the herd, and they take control, you're tied and bludgeoned, It’s that work-work play hard card that’s done it, Reversal summit, You ain’t reaching to the sky, so you're digging in the dirt all week for hardly nothing. Sing a song of sixpence, bring the sticks, The whip hurts but they deserve to be punished! Spin-skip the river passage, my rhymes just an image channelled into the middle of my head to give me balance, Call ya head ya home, ya mind’s the inhabitants, The streets are your thoughts but all you find is garages, Shackled and locked, blocked by the barriers Hop-scotch the hot tin roofs that carry us, Why could I, should I cry? would I find a wooden nook to hide my crooked eyes, Or recline in enormity, Find the source of a divine force that forms the vital thoughts in me? Walk with a high chest, ignore the tides pressed, And fight wars for my mind yes! Cut-chord conformity, fuck your laws I will draw my own in the dust on chalk-boards scrawled with dreams.....

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5. Infinity - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

Infinity - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

In a dusty room an age ago, two hyper-intelligent beings scratched a rough series of tracks into the soul of a dying computer. These tracks perhaps, form the resonant basis of work yet to filter the speaker-wires...the ghosts of these formative tunes appear here for you to listen to. Beats by tr0uble07 Words by Joe Kovacs --------------- LYRICS --------------- Within my timid inners limits, between the slimmest minutes, A moment lingers like the hissing of a finished lynx, But sweeter than ether or thinners, the smell seizes all my insticts and inners and senses in it, I'm grinning at the image, Little mirror of a moment like a photo finish, Opens up and glimmers whenever I look, Like a safe and I'm pressing the lock, Spinning the stock the handles and cylinders, Filling the million fillaments and nerves, Fibbonacci fractals recur like a dream held willingly I see it vivid, everything, stretched like a memory, When I remember, breathe, and the stress lifts like mists lift with breeze, God's in the rocks, and the shimmered seas, Blue green and all the colour of infinity, I remember these moments like tree rings filling me, Look back and see them spill into my life like a willows seeds, If you fall with an injury, Limping feet, crawl but can't sit or speak, Remember life's little mystery, that life's just a quick reprieve from the dark night's flickered beams, Starlight on peripheries, we all the sons of the sun and it's bitter heat, It's in our heart's beat, our skin and teeth...

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6. Life of a Grownup - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

Life of a Grownup - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

In a dusty room an age ago, two hyper-intelligent beings scratched a rough series of tracks into the soul of a dying computer. These tracks perhaps, form the resonant basis of work yet to filter the speaker-wires...the ghosts of these formative tunes appear here for you to listen to. Beats by tr0uble07 Words by Joe Kovacs --------------- LYRICS --------------- The tones of the piano slip and quickly soothe me, Like a romantic movie concluded smoothly, I'm alone in the room consumed by the movements of the the notes, Drifting like a balloon sent with a letter, To Aruba, Bermuda, addressed to the pupils in another school, Scribbled in crayon, grip the ruler, Scissors are plastic, glue that smells of fish, Pretending that the moons really where the office is, Except that office is a strange word to a kid, Lost in the shops or optimistically behind his bib, Cause his life is just blocks to build, shoes and socks and a box of bits, But who we gonna play when we grow up, In this game of life of a grown up? Hold up, when you get a comb tugged through your hair by your own mum Do you really care, about, Directions, headings, bearings, goals, Steady carelessness will leave you dead and buried cold on the creek, Ferried on the Styx to your home , Eternal sleep on the stones, we going deeper than gold, But when you're young fold paper origami, Wet playtimes and hot porridge in your 'jarmies, Snot clogging up the same nose, That twenty years later's slogging up the main road dressed in your grey clothes, Hating that it's you, it's just you've aged, And the days flicker quicker than the rays through the railings change, When do I stay the same? It's never meant to rain, it's never meant to rain.

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7. Minute Maid - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

Minute Maid - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

In a dusty room an age ago, two hyper-intelligent beings scratched a rough series of tracks into the soul of a dying computer. These tracks perhaps, form the resonant basis of work yet to filter the speaker-wires...the ghosts of these formative tunes appear here for you to listen to. Beats by tr0uble07 Words by Joe Kovacs --------------- LYRICS --------------- Camera trick, flick! live recording, I saw the surgeon performing open up my organs, The newest abortions in a passive stupor, Portion of a sheep feeding on the grass that's growing on my four limbs, I don't frighten easily with your scythe to knee, Now I'm falling finding knives in the night 'were you hiding these?' I stumbled with my brain humbled parched with scars, Paraded like beef with a heart of cardboard arterials, Heave em from the tranq-vats, give em fly-mo'd lawns, Mediate their temperaments, they buy cyborg porn, Triple-X then index the villains with a Z-digit-925, We'll categorise the rapists DNA and highlight the thieves and liars, Alleviates the need for justice, but they just fucked us, We pay more money whilst they make money off our fuck-lust Hey today I made the minute-maid a model village, She kissed me when she finished hissing coffee, I explained the coffins on the flock and covered hilltops, She said she really liked the colour-coded house, and slipped into one of the big shops, Riddle deep scriptures receipts and catalogues, Into our fairy tales and store em with the cattle-prods We'll let nature take it's course, Sit back and wait a war until we all sing the same basic chords, Who's gonna save me from this daemon prince, who's looting all my inners and painting my semen pink, Colour code my feelings, oh I think I'm feeling sick, Rise your fist if you think freedoms an illiterate bitch, Testify the best dressed decide the rest recline, Until they're gassed on sex and the presses pesticide, The mess divides, identity is kept and tied, by incessant relentless lies fed by the media.

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8. Nine Hundred And Eleven - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

Nine Hundred And Eleven - The Ghost Series [DEMOS], tr0uble07 feat. Joe Kovacs

In a dusty room an age ago, two hyper-intelligent beings scratched a rough series of tracks into the soul of a dying computer. These tracks perhaps, form the resonant basis of work yet to filter the speaker-wires...the ghosts of these formative tunes appear here for you to listen to. Beats by tr0uble07 Words by Joe Kovacs --------------- LYRICS --------------- Nine hundred and eleven, weapons inspections beckon, A malevolent thief’s stepping in mechanism, The ghost in the machine not to the East of Mecca, It’s in these connections, discreet from the TV's electrons, Detection evaded impossible, Major payments made same agent Provocateur, Arming the world with grenades and rocket fuel, My disdain for aggression is swayed away from philosophical, Toppling the doctrines of crossbreeds, Nottingham's sheriffs spotted and accosted by Robin Locksley, Then hop into the cockpit of a Lockheed, Top speed, seven hundred and sixty miles an hour now you lost me, Fly pass september remember the embers descending, As an emblem and an epitaph, for the dead in America, Sentenced to death by the devils with their palms, Pressing on their chests like the aggressive method of a wrestler, It's descending to the forts and trenches, Fighting under the High Court's Lord's pennants, Strike Force flechettes might penetrate the limbs and the thighs, Like lepers with missing fingers and blistering cysts for their eyes, Then riddle the corpses with sickle-cell anaemia, Distorting and twisting the stories 'til they're too convenient, Now they're appeasing the press with inadmissible evidence, So they can police the rest of the world but to it's detriment, When they're really seeking to bless their coffers, With the currency of the sea bed's compressed sediment offerings, Three thousand died in a day, Six Hundred Thousand citizens are stripped of their souls in Iraq fighting to stay, Is this tit-for-tat scripted battle's exchange rate acceptable? We get cable, they get shot buying vegetables!? Penance, repentance, terrorism or vengeance? You decide the truth or lies it's your perception, Let's talk deception, forced acceptance, Fear is the tool to keep the cyborgs receptive, Let's talk deception, forced acceptance, Fear is the tool to keep the cyborgs receptive, Don't believe the hype.

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