Der Barron

Der Barron

BandPop

You're ideas are drying up. Don't stagnate. Repetition can win fame and money, but ultimately will turn stale. Stagnation is your chosen musical death... a slow one. Don't fade, vitalize. Let your face represent your fame, and my music be your guide.

Biography

As a callow six-year-old, I announced my intention to play either saxophone or the drums. Thankfully, I chose the drums- drumset in particular. Jazz was my foundational study, and I now apply the spirit of that paradigm to my various forays into contemporary music. In order to avoid stagnation, artists new and old need infusions of new blood to invigorate their music, presence, and careers. Some can do this on their own, but on occasion the vitalizing shot must come from an outside source. I am the source.

Lyrics

Tragedy of the 13

Written By: Der Barron

Thirteen witches,
Thirteen floors-
Come now, child,
Close the door.

Thirteen candles,
Thirteen words-
Not to harm you,
That's for sure.

Thirteen stars
This moonless night-
Threefold sirens
All take flight.

Thirteen lashes...
Thirteen slashes...
Thirteen BASHES...
Thirteen CRASHES!!

Tragedy of dark souls unseen;
The tragedy of the thirteen;
Naught will stay their murderous ways;
Tell me child - do you want to play?

Fourteen present,
Thirteen heads-
Thirteen faces
Empty, dead.

Thirteen corpses
All alone,
Thirteen levels
Cold as bone.

Thirteen paces
Away from house,
One unscathed child
Laughs out loud.

The Impasse Flute

Written By: Der Barron

Intro:

No melody, no strategy.
Nostradamus beckons, we
Cannot update the worlds we see.

Through media, CHLAMYDIA!
Infect, convince, the outright lie-
The pie, the guy, the lovely sky!

Thumb to eye, the twain must meet,
For sure enough
We have the stuff;
A mercy compared
To tales that sweep us off our feet!

Verse 1:

Global warming's lie takes flight,
The crooks lash out against the right.
But if you like the whackos better,
Perhaps you'll go left of center.

Suppress the science, hype the fear.
Hype the bullshit, reap the tears and
fears for things which don't exist
Except in politicians' myths.

Chorus:

Imbibe the sound that's hemlock bound,
Bright pieces, space or underground, the
Impasse flute joins us one -
One brain-dead mass beneath the sun.

Verse 2:

The hellish vibes sound, resound -
An unholy cacophany.
They fill the brain with seeds of want -
Our heads bend in conformity.

To penetrate my impasse shield,
Cerebellum will not yield.
Your candy tricks won't work on me,
I take the world as I see.

Chorus:

Imbibe the sound that's hemlock bound,
Bright pieces, space or underground, the
Impasse flute joins us one -
One brain-dead mass beneath the sun.

Bridge, Outro:

So run the maze that
Hyped fear makes.
The walls are fake,
As rats' brains learn
I learn to spurn.

Spurn it all!
Blindness' thrall
Can see clearly through
His master's call.

Please, Thrall,
See through it all.
Don't drag us to
Depths of despair.

We don't want to live there.