Chonny Jash | (Music Video) Chonny Jash - The Forest for the Trees @ChonnyJash | Uploaded 3 months ago | Updated 6 hours ago
Holy smokes! A fresh, new original song, served with a whole new music video to boot!
I'm extremely happy with how this one turned out, so I hope you all enjoy.
[: ]
Director: Mia Troy
Director of Photography: Finn Baptie
Producer/Editor: Chonny Jash
Composition: Chonny Jash & C. Hudson
Arrangement/Lyrics/Mixing/Mastering: Chonny Jash
Spotify: open.spotify.com/artist/2hvntb0GuCXAFKwgc7X0o5?si=k3aMeXhfSXeX0j4CAHFJxQ
SoundCloud: soundcloud.com/chonny-jash
Bandcamp: chonnyjash.bandcamp.com
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LYRICS:
This race is not yet run, but the maze will go
on and on until the lun contorts to blazing sun.
This battle can’t be won, but the war will go
on and on until the one concedes to wanton void.
This path is yet un-roamed, but the road will go
on and on until we’ve fallen over our own gravestone.
The seeds have grown new trees, but I see
what is yet to be and once has been.
It all will cease;
will drift into dreams;
amalgamated nullity,
where all of time and space just freeze.
Where nothing will breathe.
Where life is mere fallacy.
Where I can finally be at ease.
The world is caving on its axis.
Hell has always had access to our plane of existence.
Pessimists ascend in excess.
Heaven hath no fury like a hangman bored.
Seven sins adorned and all afforded
was the force of a folklore.
The detriment of belief
and the benefit of the doubt
dictate that hate will make happy
and love will leave you without.
It seems the best laid plans of fools have traced this maze to a map,
but the fact is that knowing your way still don’t make the racer less of a rat.
Ideations obscene paint a scene,
once imbued with greens and pleasantries,
now red with stains of should-have-beens.
I see colours unseen; destinies
of the me’s that walked less carefully;
the silent pleas.
Please don’t think me diseased,
but time is my enemy
and I can’t spend it on my knees,
just praying for peace.
I see it ahead of me.
I’m burning the forest for the trees.
The world’s torn at the seams, and I see
(I’m begging you, please. Don’t make me make guarantees)
where the chasm leads and just what means will
(I know I can’t)
make me force those screams.
(confidently sign.)
Time is not on my side, so I slide
(We’re victims of time, but I’m somehow more scared of mine.)
slowly down and down until I want to
(I want to)
run and hide.
(run and hide.)
My branches are tied
with rope made in cyanide,
and I’m not sure how long my pride
can keep me alive.
The flames keep on beckoning,
but I won’t let this forest burn for me.
Holy smokes! A fresh, new original song, served with a whole new music video to boot!
I'm extremely happy with how this one turned out, so I hope you all enjoy.
[: ]
Director: Mia Troy
Director of Photography: Finn Baptie
Producer/Editor: Chonny Jash
Composition: Chonny Jash & C. Hudson
Arrangement/Lyrics/Mixing/Mastering: Chonny Jash
Spotify: open.spotify.com/artist/2hvntb0GuCXAFKwgc7X0o5?si=k3aMeXhfSXeX0j4CAHFJxQ
SoundCloud: soundcloud.com/chonny-jash
Bandcamp: chonnyjash.bandcamp.com
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LYRICS:
This race is not yet run, but the maze will go
on and on until the lun contorts to blazing sun.
This battle can’t be won, but the war will go
on and on until the one concedes to wanton void.
This path is yet un-roamed, but the road will go
on and on until we’ve fallen over our own gravestone.
The seeds have grown new trees, but I see
what is yet to be and once has been.
It all will cease;
will drift into dreams;
amalgamated nullity,
where all of time and space just freeze.
Where nothing will breathe.
Where life is mere fallacy.
Where I can finally be at ease.
The world is caving on its axis.
Hell has always had access to our plane of existence.
Pessimists ascend in excess.
Heaven hath no fury like a hangman bored.
Seven sins adorned and all afforded
was the force of a folklore.
The detriment of belief
and the benefit of the doubt
dictate that hate will make happy
and love will leave you without.
It seems the best laid plans of fools have traced this maze to a map,
but the fact is that knowing your way still don’t make the racer less of a rat.
Ideations obscene paint a scene,
once imbued with greens and pleasantries,
now red with stains of should-have-beens.
I see colours unseen; destinies
of the me’s that walked less carefully;
the silent pleas.
Please don’t think me diseased,
but time is my enemy
and I can’t spend it on my knees,
just praying for peace.
I see it ahead of me.
I’m burning the forest for the trees.
The world’s torn at the seams, and I see
(I’m begging you, please. Don’t make me make guarantees)
where the chasm leads and just what means will
(I know I can’t)
make me force those screams.
(confidently sign.)
Time is not on my side, so I slide
(We’re victims of time, but I’m somehow more scared of mine.)
slowly down and down until I want to
(I want to)
run and hide.
(run and hide.)
My branches are tied
with rope made in cyanide,
and I’m not sure how long my pride
can keep me alive.
The flames keep on beckoning,
but I won’t let this forest burn for me.
