I'm late! Done in barely 20-25 min, no existent mix at all. Just a quick piano arpeggio and chords repeating all the time with an attempt to move it to metal in the middle. But still something done in time.

fixed: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ZuBBdzqFs1m96Tw_KCYgglrGD7k0g5Ik/view?usp=sharing

What awaits this cozy night?

What watches your fire as it lights?

I wish I was there with you

At the fire. Together. With you.

dawg i don't even know what i sang into this mic i took too long figuring out how to play an instrument ahhhhhhhhh

"Ahh what a beautiful home. I'm so looking forward to this peaceful vacation!"

I'll admit i did a lot of copying and pasting for this one, but that's because i didn't really have a brainwave until around 30 minutes into the compo, and i didn't have time to change it or do anything different. So i ran with it. It's basically a chill downtempo number with a really long drawn out chord progression at 85bpm, a main melody on a flute like synth, and a sub bass for a bit of low-end. Whole thing is really 2 chord progressions minus the intro and breakdown, it's kind of simple from an arrangement stand-point even if the chords are complex. I quite like this one, it's kind of beautiful, even if simple. Enjoy!

On Earth, everyone loved butterflies,

but I trusted the caterpillars more.

I trusted the ones who knew

they were not done growing.

On Earth, I was a work in prograss,

was comforted in knowing

that I had a million mistakes still in me

to learn from. I changed my mind

more often than I changed my socks,

and whenever I was criticized

for mismatched thoughs, I’d say,

who wants to be today

who they were yesterday?

Becoming was how I prayed.

But here—I am past the finish line:

I have a heart of gold,

and I never have to dig for it.

I couldn’t do anything wrong if I tried,

and trust me, I try, but

I get hot-headed, and my rage

toasts the marshmallow on an angel’s

celestial s’mores. I lose my temper and find it

in the halo lost-and found box.

Lies won’t let me tell them.

they handed me a sticker

that said My Name Is and I wrote

Everyone by accident. I can’t remember

what selfishness is. Yesterday I said

something angry about an ex, and a quarter

of my tastebuds jumped off my tongue.

I’ve known nothing

of bitterness since.

Right before I died, I thought,

In the afterlife, I’ll apply for a job

at a mistake factory. They’ll be awed

by my resume. If anything, I’m overqualified.

But there’s no place where they make

mistakes here. Everyone is flawless.

Everyone’s blunders are photoshopped

right off their lives before

they even happen. Is this heaven

or hell? I can’t tell. I looked

that famous carpenter up

in the phone book, but his number

wasn’t listed, and I need to ask him

where to find the wood to build

some missteps. I’m not about to spend

eternity burning in the lie that holy

and perfect are the same thing.

Do you understand?

A promised land

is not a promised land

if I can’t keep learning