Legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees. Well, legend has it when the rain comes down all the worms come up to breathe. Well, legend has it when the sunbeams come all the plants, they eat them with their leaves. Well, legend has it that the world spins round on an axis of 23 degrees.
[But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon? or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon. Or she, who leapt up mountains, while whistling up a tune and swapped her songs with swallows while riding on a broom. Well, we can all learn things, both many and a-few from that old hunched-up woman who lived inside a shoe. Or the girl that sang by day and by night she ate tear soup, or the man who drank too much and he got the brewers' droop.]
Come listen, all ye fair maids, to how the moral goes, nobody knew and nobody knows. How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes, or how the Dong came to own a luminous nose. Or how the Jumblies went to sea in a sieve that they rowed, and came to shore by the Chankly Bore where the Bong-trees grow. Where the Jabberwocky's small green tentacles do flow, and the Quangle Wangle plays in the rain and the snow.
[CHORUS]
[But everything you see isn't everything that is, every thing you think to be, every thought you can't dismiss. The lives we try to lead and the time we try to give, well it's all a fallacy, we continue to relive. And every thing will live, just as every thing will die. Every foe that you forgive, and every friend that you deny. Every single first hello, and every single last goodbye. Every smile that you show, every tear that you hide.]
Well legend says that one and one is two, and that one and two is three. Well legend has it that the first flight flew back in nineteen-zero-three. Well legend has it that we're all just doomed and we've ruined our society. Well legend has it that we dug our tomb which we'll lie in for all eternity.
[CHORUS]
Well legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees. Well legend has it that the moss that grows will outlive both you and me. Well legend has it that world once knew a whole palette of lovely blues and greens. Well legend has it that our corpses lie a foundation of insincerity
Legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees. Well, legend has it when the rain comes down all the worms come up to breathe. Well, legend has it when the sunbeams come all the plants, they eat them with their leaves. Well, legend has it that the world spins round on an axis of 23 degrees.
[But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon? or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon. Or she, who leapt up mountains, while whistling up a tune and swapped her songs with swallows while riding on a broom. Well, we can all learn things, both many and a-few from that old hunched-up woman who lived inside a shoe. Or the girl that sang by day and by night she ate tear soup, or the man who drank too much and he got the brewers' droop.]
Come listen, all ye fair maids, to how the moral goes, nobody knew and nobody knows. How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes, or how the Dong came to own a luminous nose. Or how the Jumblies went to sea in a sieve that they rowed, and came to shore by the Chankly Bore where the Bong-trees grow. Where the Jabberwocky's small green tentacles do flow, and the Quangle Wangle plays in the rain and the snow.
[CHORUS]
[But everything you see isn't everything that is, every thing you think to be, every thought you can't dismiss. The lives we try to lead and the time we try to give, well it's all a fallacy, we continue to relive. And every thing will live, just as every thing will die. Every foe that you forgive, and every friend that you deny. Every single first hello, and every single last goodbye. Every smile that you show, every tear that you hide.]
Well legend says that one and one is two, and that one and two is three. Well legend has it that the first flight flew back in nineteen-zero-three. Well legend has it that we're all just doomed and we've ruined our society. Well legend has it that we dug our tomb which we'll lie in for all eternity.
[CHORUS]
Well legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees. Well legend has it that the moss that grows will outlive both you and me. Well legend has it that world once knew a whole palette of lovely blues and greens. Well legend has it that our corpses lie a foundation of insincerityDeath Will Fall Instrumental (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-10-06 | ...Chonny Jash - Death Will FallChonny Jash2024-09-29 | Art by Robbie Rancid! robbiedrancid.tumblr.com
Slow, crushing chaos. Fervent, feverous, furious. A once-hero now loses his grip on glory. Clock Town has lost. Link has lost. Skull Kid, even, has lost.
The silent hero stumbled into the humble town, weakened from the shadowy omen just placed upon his back. He felt a subtle yet growing premonition that things were turning for the worst. The Happy Mask Salesman's warning that initially reeked of delusion and paranoia was beginning to throb in his mind as prophetic. Then, as the clock tower's doors swung firmly, proudly, he felt such worry burn to ash upon the morning light. He had fought monsters and kings, and in past lives evil unknown. He had earned his title of the Hero of Time, and as he watched the town begin to walk, and talk, and breathe under the dawn of a new day, he resolved that he would use all the time at his disposal - and more - to keep this peace.
00:00 The Ship of Theseus 03:51 The Ship of Theseus 07:51 The Ship of Theseus 11:51 The Ship of Theseus 16:35 The Ship of Theseus 20:14 The Ship of Theseus 25:45 The Ship of Theseus Instrumental 29:37 The Ship of Theseus Instrumental 33:36 The Ship of Theseus Instrumental 37:36 The Ship of Theseus Instrumental 42:21 The Ship of Theseus Instrumental 46:00 The Ship of Theseus InstrumentalChonny Jash - The Ship of TheseusChonny Jash2024-08-31 | The human.
I’m just a man. A cobblement of who I’ve been, who I’ll be, and who I am. I’ve learned many things to forget, and I’m sure that I’ll see infinitely more yet.
I’m just a man. A culmination of what I do, and say, and think, therefore I am. I’ve forgotten more than I’ll ever know, and I’ll forget another dozen more things by tomorrow.
I’m messy. I’m incomplete. Each mountain I finally climb just reveals another peak. Arrogance. Pride. Conceit. All synonyms for the same sound that makes up my back-beat.
I’m just this version of me. Halfway to 24. Half-past 23. The clock will tock, tick, chip me slowly away; like the ocean washes the rock; tomorrow forgets today.
I have awoken from a nightmare. (Oh, can you see?) Girt by sea. Such an awful dream. I’m just a small, shallow, frail and fragile thing: (Tomorrow forgets today...) A human being. (...but the tide begets another way.)
So, call me what you like. I’ll be alright. (I’m just a vessel. I’m just a machine. I’m just scrapbook of ill-forgot stories.) Lo, sure as it is night, soon rise the light. (I’m just a broken thing. Patched together. Stretched at the seams. But beauty is as beauty sees.)
Eclecticism incarnate. I don’t know where I’ll end up, and I’ve forgotten where I started. I think my name’s not yet been changed? It might be the only piece of my identity that’s not yet been exchanged. I’m just a ship. I’m just a man. I’m full of shit. I’m free from reprimand. I’m just a piece of a piece of a piece of an idea, borne of one of a trillion grains of sand. So, when the next vessel reaches land, can we both agree to extend a helping hand?
Is it a curse? Is it a blessing? It creates its own wound, then administers its own fucking dressings. A disinfectant to cleanse itself. A little piece of Heaven to adorn this patchwork Hell. The tide on its own hides thoughts unknown. The secrets the seas held are vast and lone. They collect the steps that we can’t retrace, debase memories of Gods, and Kings, and Saints. The ocean’s seen crimes obscene of hate. Least of all, the woes of one reprobate. But the rising sun forgives all mistakes. It seems Artemis is in retrograde. The God of Night will make way for Day.
So, call me what you like. I’ll ride this tide. (I prayed for glory. I made a story. The Gods above, I’m sure, abhor me.) Though Poseidon’s seldom kind, I’ll be alright. (“I want a vision of what I’m to be.” The monkey’s paw grips my neck tightly.)
No, time is all we own, so take what you’re owed. And though mine is borrowed, I’ll make the most of this deadloan. So, call me what you like. I will survive. “It must stay just.” “Free from flaw and rust.” Tell that to Icarus, Narcissus and that fool with the lotuses. It seems they’ve forsaken us.
I’m just a man, scared and scant, feigning triumphant. I’m just a man in a crash-land, trying to stand, riding the current.Chonny Jash - The Ship of TheseusChonny Jash2024-08-30 | The author wakes.
I have awoken from a dream. I was so loved, so famed, so adored. Oh, so serene. But a daydream is but a frail and shallow thing. Oh, such a trifling fling. And now, the moon sings its strained, truthful ring.
And I. I will shift and squirm until I die, in a futile and frivolous plight to see morning light.
These He’s and Us’ are untrue. These things, we trust, but they are just another ruse.
These threads are so fine. Finite, fragile lines are the escape ropes that we climb. Thin and slight. Akutagawa’s myth might just be right - except, there is no need to die to join the demons and the deviants in the swirling pool of blood. I have grown vain anew, thus salvation threw me under to the flood.
And so, I. I will change until the mirror lies. And, as Narcissus forewent his desire, the truth will burn my eyes.
These beams and trusses are unseen. This patchwork frame, it hides a corpse of sutured seams. They puppeteer me.
I prayed for glory. I made a story. I prayed for my own world. But as they saw me, the Gods that ignored me, they saw a childish churl.
“I want an audience.” “I want to be seen.” - The monkey’s finger curls. The bard’s grown weary, but they cannot hear me over this dulcet swirl.
…but what’s one more whirl?Chonny Jash - The Ship of TheseusChonny Jash2024-08-29 | The ship forgets itself.
I am just a ship, made of toil, and grit, and rust, and sticks, scraps grown molded by time’s firm grip. Now new, once worshipped… ...undeserved.
It’s a curse. It’s an evil thing. It’s the luminance of the hubris of the patchwork king. Praise be to the patchwork king. But it’s not right. It’s just a compounding lie.
I don’t remember. I don’t recall. Oh, just how long has it been since I last heard someone sing my song? I thought it endless, my mighty call. Who would have known that Eternity’s anger could last so long? I’ve grown so worn.
Oh, Theseus, how’s it feel to know you earned your rest? Seven seas, just like the sins, oh, it seems Pride’s failed this test.
See how they cannibalize. Glory, fame, rage all cloud their eyes. I don’t even remember from whence I came. Stretched, ill-fitted, I’ve been bastardized. Centuries on centuries have passed me by. What was the name of the man who owned the hands with which I was made? Who built the arrogant ship that I became? Who designed this shame?
I can’t relinquish this title held. At least that fool with the boulder got to suffer as his own damn self. Eternal anguish. An endless night. Another falls to the lie, see the fallen from Icarian flight. I’m not what they write.
Oh, Theseus, can’t I join you, the Athenians and that beast? These days are long, the nights go on, as I’m sewn together, piece by piece. Oh, Theseus, can you see? Apollo’s forsaken me. And now, I pray that a tide just might render me beat and grant me peace.
Gods above, I pray your love might rend my core. Pasts unnamed were all unmade, so please, what’s one more?Chonny Jash - The Ship of TheseusChonny Jash2024-08-28 | The ship bestirs its hubris.
See how they praise me. These seas cannot faze me. I’m but a humble ship, graced with a glory destined. Famed, time-unscathed, and bathed in praise of the escapades; of the vibrant gaze of the rays’ brilliant daze; Gods ablaze. Daedalus made his maze, yet we stay
and watch them pray; praise the heroes who will never die; praise the vessel who sailed over tides in Icarian flight.
Oh, Theseus, can you see? They sing their praises of I and thee. Athens’ children love me.
See how they raise our names to heights that were yet unclaimed. These seas are no threat to us. Free. We are free and just. Hail, gust and gale, all will fail.
I’ll prevail. I will sail until the end of time in a permanent, paramount prime, with eminence sublime.
Oh, Theseus, can you see? The crowd below, and the Gods above thee. They commend me.
Time moves on, yet I’m the one whose end’s curtailed. Chronos’ breath propels me yet, and Athens hums these storied tales. Through time, I will prevail.Chonny Jash - The Ship of TheseusChonny Jash2024-08-27 | The men and women bless this ship.
Praise who made this ship, and he who captained it. May we praise. Praise the Sun’s enlightening rays that led this trip, and praise the prizes claimed of it.
Praise. (Praise! Praise! Praise!) Praise the hero who refused to die. Praise the courage of he who denied ever-violent tides.
Praise Theseus, who hath slain the beast! Praise he we trust, who hath lain our peace!
It must stay just; free from flaw and rust. Replace parts we can’t now trust. (Praise! Praise! Praise!) These seas were kind just once. But now, the duty falls to us. And so, it is thus: A ship that sailed so verily will live in posterity. It will sail free. Each and every piece.
So, we’ll pray. (Praise! Praise! Praise!) We will party till the night is day. We will drink. We will feast. We will play. We will sing so that it may not decay. He will hear us say
“Oh, Theseus, may our praises reach! (Praise! Praise! Praise!) Apollo’s golden light shines on thee! Hark! Athens’ children roam free! We commend thee!”
We can’t let such craft adept fall weak and frail. Delos-bound, with grace profound, we’ll humbly, gently tend these sails. Through time, it will prevail.Chonny Jash - The Ship of TheseusChonny Jash2024-08-26 | The man yet unnamed begets his ship.
I must make a ship. And I must stake many lives on it. I. I will build until I die, or until my creation can fly over foreign tides.
“By Theseus, thou hath been beseeched. Bestow control over violent seas.”
Just; free of flaw and rust. It must make to trust. These seas aren’t kind to us. The ebbs and flows wash clean life’s dust. And so, it’s thus: My ship will claim verity and malleability. It will sail free. It must sail free.
And so, I. I will build until the day is night. I will sweat. I will bleed. I will fret. I will cry not half the children might. I will bring them light.
By Theseus, I hath been beseeched. (“By Theseus, thou hath been beseeched.”) Apollo’s golden light shines on me. Let Athens’ children roam free! I command thee.
One day yet, our call to death will surely wail. Until then, let Chronos’ breath humbly, deftly spur these sails. Through time, we will prevail.Aint No Rest for the Wicked Instrumental (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-08-15 | ...The Forest for the Trees Instrumental (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-08-15 | ...To Toe Dead Lines Instrumental (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-08-15 | ...Count Eleven Instrumental (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-08-15 | ...You Sound Like Louis Burdett Instrumental (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-08-15 | ...20XX Instrumental (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-08-15 | ...(Music Video) Chonny Jash - The Forest for the TreesChonny Jash2024-07-12 | 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
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.Chonny Jash - To Toe Dead LinesChonny Jash2024-06-24 | A song about the pneumatic press we call a deadline, and the stress of having initial plans fail, made from start to finish in exactly one week.
Breathe. Breathe. You made this deadline. You can meet it as you please. Breathe. Please. It feels like the end times. It’s just another week.
Breathe. Breathe. Your heart rate is climbing. Your body’s begun to seize. Breathe. Please. If the path is best walked lonely, then why are you on your knees?
The hands of time keep moving. Slow, cruel, fine and reproving. Plans will die, and that’s uprooting, but I don’t have the strength to rest just yet. The sands of time are unending, (Sands of time will not end.) (Unending.) and I’m just a man stuck pretending. (I’m just a man.) (So what can I do to mend this pressure?) I do what I can, but the press is descending and (This is sure to end me, but) (When I know that) I don’t have the strength to best the ticking in my head.
It counts dread. Each second bled undoes a loose thread till there’s none left. I made my bed. Now, I lie through teeth shining bright, soaked in peroxide. “I’m doing fine.” If so, then why can’t I breathe?
Breathe. Breathe. Why are they all watching? What is it they want to see? Breathe. Please, just breathe. Iambic in heart. Penta-arrhythmic beat.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Toeing upon a deadline at a catatonic speed. Get the hell back up on your feet. It’s my own damn life, I’ll bring it to ruin how I please.
The hands of time keep strangling with grip so tight, while they’re wrangling what they can find to keep me hanging, but the neck of the marionette’s left rent.
I need to keep up appearances. Well I’ve appeared, have I not? I rushed out the door to adorn the light that’s on this spot. The cogs keep turning, but the line’s running dead. The power’s been cut off, but it can’t not be met. The ever-ticking deadline inside my head of dread.
These seconds bled tighten these loose ends right ‘round my neck. I made my bed. Now, I lie through teeth blinding white, stained by peroxide. “I’m doing fine.” If so, then why can’t I-
The end begins as soon as this has been started. (These seconds bled.) The fuse is lit. (Through teeth blinding white.) And so, I race it in an endless sprint.
Say what you aren’t. Sell what I see. Pray tell, what you wanna be when the beat gets awful frisky? Lawful Risky. Hit ‘em with the freak shit, makeshift, breakbeat, straight heat. Afraid he’ll come undone on the runaround. Readied back at Frame One. No cooldown. Smack that fool down. If a true combo hits then mate, you’d pray you stayed down. Quarter-circle-back attack on a track mid-match. Never buy a beat that you know that you can make by scratch.
Do me a favour, won’t ya? Put a little semiquaver culture in this structure. Vampire vultures stalk in the dread of the night. Dead to rights are The Knights of the 4/4 Court of Scorewrights. It’s heaven for those who can send it. Ascendant. A triplet groove for this mathematics lesson. School is in session. A million miles an hour for the fuckwit, dipshit, white kid. Give it to me straight, can you count to eleven, mate? Shit.
Once I wanted to be someone else; threap the bonds that forced me from my shell. Fi! Vivacious, sics thine own sick spell. Seven sins sit, still, sum yet withheld.
Ain’t that nifty? Ain’t that something else? Ain’t this freaky? Ain’t this such the yell? Eight’s too easy. Nine’s too round and slow. Tend this with me, eleven beats or so.
I don’t need drums to keep time. If rhyme’s a weapon, I’m betting yours ain’t half as sharp as mine. Much ado about naught but oneself. The selfish sets all else’s fairs square on the shelf. Heaven and Hell can contend that life’s the practice before the mortal must leap in the deep end, but no, I’ve never believed in those creeps. Let’s double the speed, then.
Everybody’s saying that I’m never gonna make it, but I’m taking any bet that I can on the self at any odds they’ll let me stake it. Learning that I can’t half-bake it. Full-and-a-half at the very least. Pulling a calf, all to keep up with my heroes and all the cool shit they’ve done. One Fun Run becomes a marathon. Never done. Half a ton of double entendres. Your beats are nice so show me what’s under. It’s fun to hear thunder, but I can’t take the bullshit anymore. What’s it for? You think the money and fame will make your repertoire more worth the passion left at the door? Well, the four-on-the-floor groove is no longer the standard. The beat’s gone independent. Sovereign Nation of Fun. The State of The Passionate Hum. Bolstered by the wait they’ve been forced to take since Day One. Give it to me straight, can you count to eleven, cunt?
Say it with me. Say you’ll take the plunge. Let’s get busy. Grab them by the plums. Twist and break them. Scream and tell them their rules are made in hatred, greed and fear.
Don’t go gentle into that good night. Life’s a rental. Make its maker write off the excess. Milk this till it’s dry. When they say to jump, you say “how high?”
[synth shenanigans]Chonny Jash - You Sound Like Louis BurdettChonny Jash2024-05-13 | ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fun Fact: My friends and I did a Music League a while back and someone put in a custom round called 'Power Hour', in which everyone had to suggest a song they'd like me to cover - I have supportive friends :) - and this is the song that won. I was initially just playing along for a laugh but I actually became somewhat obsessed with this song and it seemed like it really would be super fun to cover, so I did! (And I was right, it was extremely fun)
Double Fun Fact: That photo is genuine, from a night during which we were MEANT to film a music video. I got too drunk, and thus, there isn't enough footage for one. Oh well! But who knows, the footage we _did_ get may just come back another day...
Had a little bit to drink. There's a little thing I want at a do out East, yeah. (There's a little thing I wanted to do out East, yeah.) Now, nothing too emotional. My good, Miss. (My goodness.) I couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife eyes. (I couldn't be serious in a room full of jack-knife vibes.) Stop talking 'bout the years. You sound like Louis Burdett.
Now we roll on to my back shed. Play some poker. Scratch my head. Look at the sky and spot the planes. Where would I go on holidays? Roll with the punches down the aisles and down the streets. The weeks roll by. Roll by.
I'm chewing ice and grinning. I'm spewing up and spinning. For Iz, it's bilious-usiness as usual in his corner of the kitchen. Hey, you! Now, lose that friend before we go anywhere. What? Someone might see you alone? Stop baggin' out the band. You sound like Louis Burdett.
Yeah, and all my friends are fuck-ups, but they're fun to have around. Banana chairs out on the concrete, telling stories to the stars how Geminis love wooden dragons, yeah, how down the streets, the weeks roll by. Roll by.
The moment the night wears off, the bombsite reappears. They're all asleep, but the morning tastes like bile. It tastes so vile in Tempe. I feel so fucked I just might wake him up. Pat him on the bald head.
Tell me about a dream, Louis. Something obscene, Louis. Your life's an open magazine, Louis.
Now, I'm stoned in a bookshop, sober in a nightclub. Sex is everywhere, but nowhere 'round me. ...nowhere. By the time she gets to Marrickville, we'll be masturbating. Never rains in Tempe. The planes remind me of family money and the lack down here. Stop talking frustrated, 'cos I sound like Louis Burdett!
Yeah, now we roll on to my back shed. Play some poker. Scratch my head. Look at the sky and spot the planes. Where would I go on holidays? Roll with the punches down the aisles and down the streets. The weeks roll by. Roll by.
Yeah, and all my friends are fuck-ups, but they're fun to have around. Banana chairs out on the concrete, telling stories to the stars how Geminis love wooden dragons, yeah, how the weeks roll by.
Now most of my friends are very fruity indeed, such fun to have around. Tragedy - like charity - begins at home.
Now, Cass don't like madness... ...oh, but madness likes him. He's got a finger in his chest, oh, just saying how it should have been.
Now, Mae Mae may make do - if you give the man a gram or two - if you're lucky enough to see him - oh, if you're lucky enough that he made the trip down to see you.
Oooooohhhh, that's Izzy. He's at his peak now, isn't he? His key's fizzy, dizzy with something illicit he can't quite afford but'll keep his mind busy.
And Chel's taken some time off the Jim! ...but surely not as much as it took off him. The well runs dry, he's poured it down the sink, oh, just saying how it should have been.
And Tee's beak's stuck in the middle of them all. He's caught a whiff of the peak, but he's scared of the fall. He's got it made! The rock star! The talk of the town! But that don't mean shit in a town this small!
And he's scared of nothing more than him; The raucousness in his head and its then-proceeding din; The hanged skeleton in his closet; The two fingers at his chin.
All screaming how it should have been.
Now we roll on to my back shed. Play some poker. Scratch my head. Look at the sky and spot the planes. Where would I go on holidays? Roll with the punches down the aisles and down the streets. The weeks roll by.
My friends are completely fucked, but they're such fun to have around. Banana chairs out on the concrete, telling stories to the stars how Geminis love wooden dragons, oh, we're down the streets.
The weeks roll by.Chonny Jash & The K.K. Quintet - Cruisin Suite (Full EP)Chonny Jash2024-04-23 | Just thought it'd be fun to compile up all three of these covers (+ instrumentals) into one neat little package. Enjoy whatever this is!
Can you hear the sea? Can you feel the beat cruisin' through the shores of fury? Can you finally see peace has anger beat?
Call what's been till you can't see what's still happening. Point the blame at backs of those beneath. Time wanders by, yet you deny it's your only alibi.
Life is such this bittersweet harmony. We sleep. We eat. We breathe. We think. We try to beat the evil things that crawl their way into our mind. And sure, we'll hurt. And sure, we'll die, but that's not on our minds tonight. Give up the fight and see the light. Alright.
[sax]
[sax shenanigans]
[drum shenanigans]
I can feel it too, like a deja vu leaking out the walls we broke through. Nostalgia plays the fool... ...such the plastic jewel.
Can't we hum a tune that's more joy than gloom? Can't we finally drop this costume? Life's too slow to lose. Just enjoy the cruise.
I'm actually so glad I don't have a manager or sponsors. Can you imagine trying to explain this to them? Anyway thanks for humouring my dumb shenanigans.
Here we are. We're back again. I thought time might mend, but it seems to me that all good things must end. We sense dissent. (We hunt its scent.) We rip. We rend till it's torn to shreds.
Why can't we see for once what we've done? We went to war and no one won. Is this your sick idea of fun? Seeing just which ties can be undone. Please, just tell me why we're here if all you do is point and jeer. Your cries of pity aren't sincere, that's clear.
I can't tell if you can see this psychopathy seeping through the trite you're spewing. "They grew the stem." "They breathe, we condemn." "Oh, it's Us vs. Them."
And what really stings the most is that I know that I'm the one who let this grow. It ferments and festers oh, so slow, but still, I let this hatred flow. And sure, we'll hurt. And sure, we'll die, but I really thought that we'd be fine as long as we could just be kind, alike.
But then again, it's not the end. Save the sour laments, 'cos maybe it's too late to make amends, but I'd rather try, and lose this fight than just stand aside.
So, I'll go and put myself in the light. Find the time. Fight this quiet. I'm tired of standing idly by. I don't wanna pick a side. And maybe, I'm just naive and this is how it's meant to be; crushed beneath the enmity. Contempt without remedy.
Choose a side. Prepare to fight. There's no end in sight. Why can't we just get along tonight? Grab a seat, and pour a drink and come sing along with me.
We'll help us see we can't be crushed. We can be free.Chonny Jash - The Bidding (Official Music Video by OpalTheThing)Chonny Jash2024-03-29 | Woah! Didn't expect this one, did ya! For a while, I had been seeing occasional updates from Opal on Twitter about an animation she had been working on for The Bidding, and I thought it was too cool not to be seen by as many people as possible, so I got in contact and asked if it would be ok to feature it on my channel as an official music video of sorts.
To be clear, by the way, this is not a return to Tally Hall. As I said, I just happened upon updates for an animation that was already being created and wanted to broadcast it to more people. It'll still be a long, long time before I come back to TH/CCCC/HMS... ...sorry! I've just got other things I want to do.
I've been sleeping in a cardboard box, spending every dollar on a losing lot. And even though I know it isn't worth much stock, you know it's better to have tried than not.
Can you tell me who you're trying to fool? I can't seem to find the point you're trying to make. And if you think that you can lie to me, then I think you've made a big mistake.
Going once. Going twice. Every madman has his vice. Some have lust. Some have greed. Some have intra-psychosocial envy.
We've been here like a thousand times; circled all around this dreadful carousel. You say that you're so cognizant of all the patterned lies that you try not to tell. And yet you still continue putting in your dimes and continue this revolving hell.
And here he is: the piece of shit sitting, seething high atop his stolen throne. Glass is the house of the hypocrite, and yet you still continue arming stones.
Going once. Going twice. Let me lend you some advice. Time is short, life even more. Yet you wage this silly war. Going twice. Going thrice. Guess this means we'll tie the rope today.
See, I've been in total agony, relentlessly, ever since you came around. You came around.
You claim to relish entropy, but I see Stuck, deteriorating helplessly, endlessly. The order which you beg to hold you down to the ground. The 'Ruler' of our Soul, left never crowned, forever bound. Your [silence] (violence) deafens more than any sound.
Oh my god. Holy shit. We were there. That was it. Did you see harmony, if only temporarily? The halves I reviled. An attempt to concile. One more time, go again. No, this can't be the end.
It was mean. It was vile. Like a freak. Like a child. But for once, Heart and Mind had finally combined. I believe. I concede. You can finally enweave. If not for you or for him then please do it for me.
'Cos I don't know how much more I can take. This creeping, seeping, sickly, sweeping, heinous heartache. [headache.] So please, won't you just attempt to be free. 'Cos I think I can finally be me.
We've been here like a thousand times, fighting the other hemisphere. But maybe if we reasoned our rhymes this dissonance could disappear.Chonny Jash - Heal InstrumentalChonny Jash2024-03-16 | I really love this instrumental ngl
I've always enjoyed the idea that the Happy Mask Salesman isn't actually a creepy cryptid freakazoid, but just a Hylian guy who's very energetic and enthusiastic about things he knows. And he knows masks more than anything else...
An evil power draws near. An omen of rage, spite and fear. Reawakened. Stained by death. Commands the child with no one left.
An ancient tribe once laid it down. They feared its power. They feared its sound. But now, its slumber has been cut short. Its sleep has been disturbed once more.
I wish I had some better news. I wish I'd never fallen for his ruse, but I've no power to rewind time, so this is how we'll die.
Majora closes. Dread flows in waves. It's found its puppet. It's found its prey. It lit the fuse. Just three more days until your final melody will play.
He'll leave this world a hollow shell. He'll burn the line between life and hell. He'll leave us empty, as he himself. He'll drown in chaos all we've ever held.
He'll bring down hellfire. He'll bring the storm. He's the calamity. He's the swarm. A cataclysm is soon to fall. The Gods of ancient times won't hear our call.
So, feel the cold. Heal your soul. It's time to atone. It's the end. Death descends. We can't start again.
It's too late. Count the days. Three more till the blaze. All that's left; time, regrets. We've all transgressed.
Endless, the agony soon to befall us. Hopeless mortality. Smothering dust. Ceaseless, the tragedy fuelled by its bloodlust. Pain is the only thing we still can trust.THE POWER HOUR PROJECT (Full Album)Chonny Jash2024-02-25 | All four Power Hours, laid out in a row for your listening pleasure! Each EP will remain as its own release on distribution services, just for the sake of keeping things as they are and avoiding confusion as to what songs are covering whom etc. but I figured some people would want a direct way to listen to all of them at once... weirdos (/pos)
00:00:00 Ego; Act I - Cage 00:02:34 Ego; Act II - Art 00:05:47 Ego; Act III - Nerd 00:12:49 Grew On Me 00:17:23 Not Perfect
00:26:43 Shutup You're Stupid 00:30:04 Evl Ppl 00:33:53 Savages 00:38:22 A Drink to Death 00:42:38 Chonny's Inferno
00:46:44 Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) 00:50:58 Tomcat Disposables 00:57:07 Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D. 01:01:11 ...And If I Did, You Deserved It. 01:04:33 Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world
01:07:35 Mayday 01:13:03 Don't Take It Personally 01:16:54 Push 01:20:58 Compelled by Hindsight 01:25:59 The Lie of Black and White 01:31:24 BONUS: Don't Take It Personally (2020 Demo) 01:34:24 BONUS: Push (2020 Demo) 01:37:28 BONUS: Compelled by Hindsight (2020 Demo)
01:42:49 Ego; Act I - Cage Instrumental 01:45:23 Ego; Act II - Art Instrumental 01:48:36 Ego; Act III - Nerd Instrumental 01:55:37 Grew On Me Instrumental 02:00:13 Not Perfect Instrumental
02:09:33 Shutup You're Stupid Instrumental 02:12:54 Evl Ppl Instrumental 02:16:43 Savages Instrumental 02:21:13 A Drink to Death Instrumental 02:25:16 Chonny's Inferno Instrumental
02:29:23 Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People) Instrumental 02:33:36 Tomcat Disposables Instrumental 02:39:45 Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D. 02:43:48 ...And If I Did, You Deserved It. Instrumental 02:47:11 Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world Instrumental
02:50:13 Mayday Instrumental 02:55:21 Don't Take It Personally Instrumental 02:59:11 Push Instrumental 03:03:15 Compelled by Hindsight Instrumental 03:08:17 The Lie of Black and White InstrumentalChonny Jash - The Chonny Jash Power HourChonny Jash2024-02-23 | Wow! An artist so vain that he covered his own music! Weirdo!
THESE ARE AVAILABLE TO LISTEN ON SPOTIFY (and other services), AND DOWNLOAD ON SOUNDCLOUD AND BANDCAMP!!!
00:00 Mayday 05:28 Don't Take It Personally 09:19 Push 13:23 Compelled by Hindsight 18:24 The Lie of Black and White
23:48 Mayday Instrumental 28:56 Don't Take It Personally Instrumental 32:47 Push Instrumental 36:50 Compelled by Hindsight Instrumental 41:52 The Lie of Black and White Instrumental
47:16 BONUS: Don't Take It Personally (2020 Demo) 50:17 BONUS: Push (2020 Demo) 53:21 BONUS: Compelled by Hindsight (2020 Demo)BONUS: Compelled by Hindsight (2020 Demo) (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-02-23 | youtube gets the scraps too :)BONUS: Push (2020 Demo) (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-02-23 | youtube gets the scraps too :)BONUS: Dont Take It Personally (2020 Demo) (Audio)Chonny Jash2024-02-23 | youtube gets the scraps too :)Chonny Jash - The Lie of Black and WhiteChonny Jash2024-02-23 | Well, it can't all be gloom and doom, now, can it?
Fun Fact! This song was originally meant to be the one with a music video, but the security guard at the abandoned warehouse said "This is private property" and "You can't film here" and "Fuck off mate"
I remember a time when it was easier to hide behind the lie of black and white. I’d say I’d aligned and that I’d be with her, but even then, the roads had intertwined.
When that rainbow, out of reach, up high, hanging overhead couldn’t shine yet. When raindrops from the sky’d merely hide the pain and make shit wet. When lines once silver'd blur like those of he and her and grey clouds left me shaded the gradient of dread.
Back when I said that “being stuck on the fence between romance is killing me.” That “every moment I wait substantiates my misery.” That “all the fish in the sea formate the shape of beings I cannot see.” “A shadowy mass of that which haunts my dreams.”
I remember that time and what it did to me. The fear. The shame. The sheer relentless cold. I’d do what I thought the world would want from me. I’d smile and wave and be what I was told.
But as time meandered slowly by, it all began to change… in a good way. The cloth of life began to be dyed in vibrant shade arrays. The silence turned to violets. Gold from violence. Blue skies that had once mimicked the colour of pain.
On a brand new day, I finally gathered up all the will to say
that all my life on the fence has made this lens so clear to me. A 360-degree perspective of serenity. Now, every hue can be seen, from blues to greens to all that’s in between. Agony never really was the chic.
Now, all the time that I've spent in lamentation messed with me. Now, there’s no noose to be tied that could pinpoint my complexities. (Oh, say you won't miss me.) Oh, all the weight can be braced by that which breaks when tied more carefully. I’ll share what is gone and wear it on my sleeve.
And yes, as I’ve said, no, I’m not so blind that I might find this light and think it’s for me. No, I’m not naive. I see the shrieks of the damned and the meek that still are yet to be, but I’m just a brain, and some blood, and some electricity. And if I’ve got eighty fucking years before the sleep, oh, can you blame me for crying heresies?
I can’t abide by the line that you’ve made. I’ll live in love, you live in hate. You can deal in rage. You can judge your neighbour and pray, but Jesus ain’t your mate. And he may not be mine, but at least I can be kind while the world around me spins on a dime, time by time. What’s the shame in trying to be true to myself in this living hell? Humanity goes both ways.
And I’m all too well-aware of the lucky cards I’m holding. And I’m all too safe from the chains and the scathing scoldings. And I see the watering eyes from those still denied, whose hands quake as they’re folding. An all-silent scream, covert streams; tears yet unseen beneath a poker face. You’ll be yourself one day…
And perhaps, in time, these rhymes will seem so absurd and dated. (And I know we’re not there yet.) And perhaps amends will be made for the ones who waited. (The beaten and hated.) But I can’t help crying when I see the cruel crush the kind and leave this world serrated. (The meek are frustrated.) Can we carve a version averse to those doomed to hurt the fools who dared be them? Or will it be too late then?
Every person on Earth deserves to sing their melody, and the drumming of love should never have to quell its beat, but if this tune can be heard and soothe some hurt, that’s good enough for me. If I’d heard it myself, perhaps I’d have spared some grief…
Now wouldn’t that be lovely?Chonny Jash - Dont Take It PersonallyChonny Jash2024-02-22 | The 5 or 6 people who already knew about these old soundcloud songs are absolutely losing their minds right now.
Both these hearts are fading. A cardiac arrest is waiting. No, I'm not much for painting, but there's no more time for negotiating. Each vessel's blood's cascading. Ignore the piles of pencil shavings. I can't quite get the shading. Perhaps a drink or ten will save me.
I'm so tired of feeling this. I'm so tired of what's drawn in my head, so I'll take these hallucinogens just to forget about when she said
"You can surrender your heart, but it won't be enough. Don't take it personally, I'm afraid of love."
A state of indecision. Am I the culprit or the victim? Now, all the love I've given is flowing through this blackened ink. A mass of small incisions on a canvas not built for precision. If the drugs aren't in my system, then what the hell has blurred my vision?
I'm not sure if it's permanent, but if it is then I might as well be dead. I don't want to get hurt again, but I remember the time she said
"You can surrender your heart, but it won't be enough. Don't take it personally, I'm afraid of love. So, just keep playing your part and I'll keep calling your bluff, but don't take it personally when push comes to shove."
White as snow, my wrist and my heart. Where you kissed, pulled apart till it burns like charcoal. It's so cold. And so, I just pray for some warmth in this stick-and-poke.
So, if to render my art, I need to own the right stuff, perhaps what's burdened me won't quite be enough. So, I'll keep sketching my songs and keep on tuning my brush until time has worthened me deserving of love.
You can surrender your heart, but it won't be enough. Don't take it personally, I'm afraid of love. So, just keep playing your part and I'll keep calling your bluff, but don't take it personally when push comes to shove.(Music Video) Chonny Jash - PushChonny Jash2024-02-21 | The music video? in the third Power Hour slot??? What the hell is going on here???
I see you trying to slowly turn your back to them. The shadows of who you were, back when you felt condemned. I see you, still denying that you're worth the cost. A friendship's a one-way street that you refuse to cross.
Push them all away and start your silence. The black light of despair's your only guidance.
Fading, awaiting a message or some kind of change. Abating the shaking fear that you might need them, and that you're sick and deranged. But paranoia will turn truthful with just one step not taken. The terror that burned in your youth that you'd end up at this crossroads and walk the path forsaken.
Push them all away, I fucking dare you. Hush them, and see how deep this pit's prepared for you. Hateful though you think you've been, that straw man you burned is just an effigy. The rage you'll show will make that wretch seem heavenly.
He's nothing next to the man who you are yet to be.Chonny Jash - Compelled by HindsightChonny Jash2024-02-20 | You know, I only finished this one up like last week and even I don't know what the hell I was thinking as I was making it... ...bit funky though, no?
All your wiles and painted plaster had finally fell from form. The time you whiled was bathed in laughter. The sunlight, bright and warm. And though you prayed the dark move faster, the day lasts just as long. The yarn once lit has closed its chapter and now, you sing night's song. The pain and regret and slow disdain. Every thought that you cannot dismiss. Each time you escape one banal babushka cage, you see the vessel in which it sits.
Why do you think you deserve this? When did your ego grow? The grin you wear seems awful churlish. Your outfits, just as so. Self-puppeted marionette plays poet, director and whole damn cast, but underneath that face, there lay it: a message from the past. The future's a coward. The present, mocking, so bust out those rotten rose-tinters. What's happened has flowered and I can hear it knocking, so get ready the salt and the tincture.
The rope's not voluntary, nor one that you can show. A noose that's tied so scarcely merely acts to keep you on your toes.
Everything you've been's grown toxic, disguised by tinted dye. A thin veneer stained faux-quixotic, in shades of blatant lie. Pretend and fake. Perfect your novel and sell it out for free. The soapbox in the sad man's hovel refuses to charge a fee. The Pan Man. The Wicked. The Stranded Cynic. The Fool in The Artist's clothing. The Emperor's New Album is free from common critics and yet still, it lies victim to loathing.
You said that you're tired of being no one; you're sick of being the mean, but now that the spotlight's on your emotions, you're scared of being seen. They'll pick apart your sacred wisdom, but you're no fucking deity. You're just a simple, lowly, degradated human being. Compare who you are to what you see. Contort the prose into something absurd. If no one's around when you cut that tree then the shock wave cannot be heard.
The rope's not voluntary, nor one that you can show. A noose that's tied so scarcely merely acts to keep you on your toes.
But there's still time to clear your mind, so don't submit and don't deny. You've carved a chance where most have died, so clear the path and walk in strides. The yarn you spin's turned awfully thin, so drop the string, you've solved your pastime. What's the past when we're living in the meantime?
If decent thrives and guilty hides then steel your nerve and choose your side. You might be wrong. You might be right, but how will you know if you don't try? The sleepless nights your fear incites aren't half as bad as what the hush will bring. Can you take another rush of this feeling?Chonny Jash - MaydayChonny Jash2024-02-19 | Alright, so I bent the rules a little bit... don't blame me, my sanity made me do it.
I've gone too far. I pushed too hard. I ran my miles and found I'd wound up back at the start. I've gone too far. I'm being pulled apart. I strayed my self until the sound of now drowned the past.
I can't breathe. I can't see. I can't seem to stay me, so I scream
"Mayday." "Mayday." I'm screaming "Mayday." "Mayday." "Isn't there anyone here?"
but the cries fall on no ears.
I've sunk again. My luck is spent. I found my path and sprinted down as fast as I can, but I went too far. I cut and cornered 'round the bends. I can't turn back now I've lost sight of where it begins.
I can't sleep. I can't think. I can't reach above me, so I scream,
silently
Mayday. Mayday. I'm screaming Mayday. Mayday. Another birthday spent in tears. Once counting up, now I count down the years.
As Atlas collapses and Icarus' wax is destroyed, and the pillars dissolved, betrayed by synapses, an addict relapses and Hercules loses his hold.
I sped off without care, the wind flying through my hair, but now the breeze just makes me cold. I've finally broken down. Smell the sickening, smoky scent of burnout. Memory turned a prophecy foretold.
The dust is finally settling and through its clouds, I see me. Me. Just me, with tears flowing down in streams and the unyielding urge to scream
Thousands of people will hear. Delayed facsimiles will ring crystal clear, but reverberations don't carry the same weight. By the time the echoes hit them, it'll already be too late, so this SOS is solely for me.
I am to whom I scream mayday. Mayday. I'm screaming mayday. Mayday. I'm screaming mayday.Chonny Jash - The Will Wood Power HourChonny Jash2023-12-23 | 5 Will Wood covers (+ Instrumentals!!!) for your listening pleasure.
THESE ARE AVAILABLE TO LISTEN ON SPOTIFY (and other services), AND DOWNLOAD ON SOUNDCLOUD AND BANDCAMP!!!
00:00 Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) 04:12 Tomcat Disposables 10:21 Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D 14:25 ...And If I Did, You Deserved It. 17:47 Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world
20:49 Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) Instrumental 25:03 Tomcat Disposables Instrumental 31:12 Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D. Instrumental 35:15 ...And If I Did, You Deserved It. Instrumental 38:39 Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world Instrumental(Music Video) Chonny Jash - Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world | Will Wood CoverChonny Jash2023-12-22 | HUGE THANKYOU TO THE FOLLOWING ARTISTS FOR THEIR CONTRIBUTIONS TO THIS MUSIC VIDEO:
One day, you'll look up at the ceiling above. If you're lucky, you'll be surrounded by the ones that you love. When the lights in your eyes fade and life flashes by. One day, you're going to die.
One day, you'll sleep and you'll never wake again. Heaven. Hell. Nirvana. Nothing. No one knows how it ends. Rest in peace, or pieces that won't even align. One day, you're going to die.
Oh, you can read your horoscopes, your palms and tarot cards, but either way, your destination ain't very far. You could drown, or choke, or burn, or be hit by a car. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but something will eventually.
One day, you'll look back at the life that you led. No more future left to fear that you have. The past to regret. But your worries will be over if you truly realize. One day, you're going to die.
Take it away, hand!
[solo]
In the fabric of time and in the vastness of space. A billion amounts to nothing in infinity's face. At most, a couple generations will remember the ways in which your life never mattered, so who cares if it's a waste?
One day, you'll be not even a faint memory. No, at most a ghost or falling leaf from your family tree. Your legacy's not yours to see, nor is your eulogy. And you'll never know what it all means.
But you'll be at peace before you sleep if you just keep this in mind: that everything and everyone goes with the passage of time. So whether it's cancer, murder or suicide.
One day, you're going to die. No need to fear, 'cause when it's here you won't be alive. Try not to think about it. One day, you're going to die. And there's probably nothing after! One day, you're going to die.
So if you only have one chance, you ought to try your best to live as you'd like.
One day, you're going to die.Chonny Jash - ...And If I Did, You Deserved It. | Will Wood CoverChonny Jash2023-12-21 | Guess it's technically on a record now, huh?
I want a new pair of shades, get paid to wear shoes. Do what I say. Don't say what I do when we're alone, now. High up but a low-down. You know I'm not the type of guy to turn my back on a knife, and that's why I'm still looking in the mirror.
I wanna be safe from the fame; be loved from afar. Nine-thousand miles away, where you can't see my scars. Get my good side from where you can't get on my bad side. You know I'm not the type of guy to turn my back on a knife. It's just my luck, these motherfuckers talking smack on a guy. But I'm deserving every word they could begin to apply. Well, at least they know now
that I really don't care what you think or what you say. Either that or I do way too much. Oh well, whatever, either way. My heart's empty and I'm trying to fill it up, but it's not big enough for the both of us.
I want no less than the best, but the best I can do is do the worst thing first and leave the rest up to you. I'm realistic... said the cis man wearing lipstick. If I keep beating myself up, I'll keep on winning the fight and get my ass kicked. I'm poisonous, not toxic.
I'll admit when I'm wrong, but only to be right. And if it fits in the song, I'll rhyme that with contrived. Don't meet your idols. ...don't tell me I'm your idol. You know the only label that I'll sign is in the DSM-5 'cos my flaws are sorta on the pathological side. Don't call me eccentric, call me mentally sick, 'cos I ain't sold enough tickets yet to be rich and that's the only difference.
And I really don't care what you think or what you say. Either that or I do way too much. Oh well, whatever, either way. My heart's empty and I'm trying to fill it up, but it's not big enough for the both of us.
And if looks could kill, I'd be staring in the mirror. Yeah, if looks could kill, I'd be staring in the mirror. Yeah, if looks could kill, I'd be staring in the mirror more than I already would 'cos man, I'm looking good.
And I really don't care what you think or what you say. Either that or I do way too much. Oh well, whatever, either way. My heart's empty and I'm trying to fill it up, but it's not big enough for the both of us.
And I really don't care what you think or what you say. I'm a cancer, I'm malignant. Yeah, you ought to stay away. My heart's fucking empty and I'm trying to fill it up, but it's not big enough for the both of us.Chonny Jash - Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D. | Will Wood CoverChonny Jash2023-12-20 | Or; 'An Exercise In Letting Off Steam'
(before any of you lot get on my ass, I know 火弁護士 isn't an actual word, just roll with it.)
Tearing the hair off a black baboon's skull is some cunt with some four-thousand wiles. Vomiting trite from his theremin throat while the zealots imbibe all the bile. Push past any pith to preserve the persona that earned him the right to get bent. Tears pages from spines as he judges the cover and shamelessly spoils the end.
The Egoist sits, insists "this is it" making shit dins in a room stenched like piss. Hands on his snake, he wrings out its venom, intending to learn it to hiss. If you growl the words hard, they might think they heard art and ignore that the canvas is blank. The Emperor's New Opera is a cover – shock horror! - and he still thinks that he should be thanked.
So all that I see is it's all about me, till the meaning of "He" falls apart. Well, it seems he broke me, but I swear he will not break my heart. He will not break my heart!
OH LORD!
He'll rationalize rhymes till the T's and the I's are re-crossed and re-dotted to a blur. Blacks out his eyes, hides the lines, flays his thighs till the they think that he is their her. Mangled and maliced, a foreheaded/four-headed phallus. This dickhead seems to forget that echidnas can't sing. But when curled in a ring, no he can't feel a thing, so he'll stay still till the quills drill back into his being.
So God, take the steering wheel! Drive me to Fate and we'll finally sit down and have a chat. Show me your visage, or at least, just an image to prove that you ever had a plan. Idolatrous theation and fetishization mean he's not the me that we see through the screen. This mirror is faulty, it's beaming out light, yet endued with value only once it's seen.
And all that I see is it's all about me, till the meaning of "Me" falls apart. No, it seems I broke me, but I swear I will not break his heart. Whoa. Now all that I see is it's all about me, till the meaning of "He" falls apart. Well, it seems he broke me, but I swear he can go fucking die.
He can go fucking die. (死ね) He can go fucking die. (死ね) He can go fucking die. (死ね)
He can go fucking die.
Why should he be any different?Chonny Jash - Tomcat Disposables | Will Wood CoverChonny Jash2023-12-19 | "Hello everyone. How you guys doing tonight? Uhh, the first song I wanna play for you guys is about a friend of mine. It's also a little bit about me."
I have mapped the cupboards and drawers. Tracked the least walked spots on the floor. Happy to be home, safe and warm. Shadows by their feet. The odd vanishing treat, quietly eating while they sleep. So here's where I'll be raising my kids if I can find someone to start a family with. Till then, I dream of the day my odds and ends fit. I'll wake up, there'll be food on the stove forever and never want for more.
Is there cheese in the great beyond? Rinds of Parmesan. Wine to water, night from dawn. Life gets shorter, teeth grow long. Mind me not and I'll mind my own. And my mind's not one bite smaller or lesser than yours. Do I belong in right and wrong? Nature, I guess.
One night, one flung light through this place. So I run for cover. Over, under. Left the rind out on the plate. Little heart racing and praying "Something keep me safe." I think it saw my face... Okay, one hungry day is nothing, come what may. But then winter came inside for three nights. Left me grinding my teeth between my walls and gripping my dreams tight. Curled up, kept my head up and put up the fight. I'll make it through again. I have before. C'mon, now, what's one more?
Is there cheese in the great beyond? Rinds of Parmesan. Wine to water, night from dawn. Life gets shorter, teeth grow long. Mind me not and I'll mind my own. And my mind's not one bite smaller or lesser than yours. Do I belong in right and wrong? Nature, I guess.
Spring bloomed in the kitchen again! So I crawled out of the walls and squinting, saw hope on the stovetop, just like I'd always imagined it. More than I could eat, my dreams were finally reality. My struggles have a happy ending. They must want to be friends!
But right before I bite, the child's eyes meet with mine. I don't know why, but my, we're both scared! And so, I back off back to bed. I've been hungry for three nights, I'll make it four and save my head. But as I mumble down to sleep, a helping hand appears; a humble meal of water and cheese. One small act of quiet, warm peace. A night spent full and eased. The glint still left in my mind.
Let a sigh out as I close my eyes.
One day ends, the next begins. That's for the best.
Is there cheese in the great beyond? Is kindness not yet gone? A ray of hope amidst the dark storm. Now, I'm not one for guardian deities, but something tells me she said, so silently "Your mind's not one bite smaller or lesser than mine."
Do I belong in right and wrong? One kills, one grows. And why? I don't know, but time goes on with me still not gone, so I'll take Alive along with Alone. Tonight, my song's sung in right and wrong. Nature, I guess. Nature, I guess.
Nature, I guess.Chonny Jash - Laplaces Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) | Will Wood CoverChonny Jash2023-12-18 | WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH IT'S TIME, BAYBEEEH! I was already familiar with Will Wood for a while, but throughout 2023 I kinda became obsessed - the fact that people keep asking me to cover him is a just a handy coincidence. So before anyone feels the need to call me a sellout!! Will was my top artist this year for Spotify Wrapped, and my Top 3 songs were all by him, so this was really kind of inevitable.
Have you ever died in a nightmare? Woke up surprised you hadn’t earned your fate? Have you ever felt like Atlas; threw your back out on the axis then collapsed and threw the planet away? Everyone’s just blood in an ice tray. A vampire picking flowers out in the sun. Run your diagnostic tests. It’s posited nobody dies agnostic, but we still dial 9-1-1.
And now you’re singing “oooh, could you take a look at me?” (It’s the norm for-. It’s the norm for chemicals.) “Am I bad?" "Am I bad?" "Am I bad?" "Am I really that bad?” (It’s the norm for particles. Eye for eye for tooth.) And now you’re singing “oooh, whatever you think of me, (It’s the norm for chemicals. It’s the norm for particles.) if you were in my shoes, you’d walk the same damn miles I do.” (Yes, it’s only natural.)
We’re only tuning to the tone of a bell curve now. Ask not for whom it tolls... But with my head up in the clouds, I can see so much ground and from up here, you look like ants in a row. It doesn’t take a killer to murder! It only takes a reason to kill. We’ve all got evidence of innocence. It’s “everything’s coincidence.” The difference twixt fate and free will
is whether you’re singing “oooh, could you take a look at me?” (It’s the norm for animals. It’s the norm for chemicals.) “Am I bad?" "Am I bad?" "Am I bad?" "Am I really that bad?” (It’s the norm for particles. I, for I, forsooth.) And now you’re singing “oooh, whatever you think of me, (It’s the norm for chemicals. It’s the norm for particles.) if you were in my shoes, you’d walk the same damn miles I do.” (Yes, it’s only natural.)
Yo-u, YOU!
Somebody help me!
Say, doesn’t it pain you to know our fate? A hundred trillion years all piled up in one brain. And now, hey, what do you say we sneak on out of this place, babe? Free will is best enjoyed with a familiar face. Victor made a monster. Heaven made The Beast. Judas made a friend and stabbed his back post-feast, so posthaste! We must escape! Your creator’ll leave you disgraced, babe. Laplace will not rest until you are erased!
So if you wash your hands of where you’ve been until you flood the second floor, neatly fold your skeletons but still can’t shut the closet door. The only ones in need of love are those who don’t receive enough, so evil ones should get a little more.
You! Could you take a look at me? (Man no more than animal is made of moral chemicals.) Am I bad? Am I bad? Am I bad? Am I really that bad? (Any form, mechanical. Thank you, God, you fool.) And now you’re singing. You! Whatever you think of me. (From the hordes of cannibals to psych wards of hospitals:) If the shoe fits, would you walk that mile? (it’s a small world after all.) Oh, you can put it on the other foot, it’s the same size!
You! Could you take a look at me? (苦しむ人々は人を傷つける.) Am I bad? Am I bad? Am I bad? Am I really that bad? You? (俺は傷人, so what'cha think I’m gonna do to you?) We’re singing. You! Whatever you think of me. (傷ついた奴は人を傷つける. Schadenfreude just ain’t as good.)
If you were in my shoes, you’d see I wear the same size as you.Chonny Jash - 20XX (Music Video)Chonny Jash2023-11-04 | Any excuse to get the guns out. I was honestly torn between this idea and a different one (leaning toward the other) but before I could lock it in, I got into what can only be described as "A Long And Arduous Conversation With An Immediate Relative About How, Yes, A Man Can Wear Women's Clothing And Makeup And Still Be A Man." SO I just had no choice at that point. It's also made to address a similar sentiment I sometimes see amongst the fans, uncommon as it is...
man that was a lot of random bullshit typing anyway ENJOY THE SONG
In the year of 20XX, a super weird unit named Chonny Jash was making videos. Experimenting with fashion and makeup, speculation ran rampant, prompting the man to write a song to the more… unenlightened.
One. Two. Three. Four.
20XX. 20XX.
Please help me see the line you've drawn between blue and pink. I think, therefore I am. I am, therefore I think. It's plenty arbitrary, and yet still you're concerned that "He in heels and makeup simply must be a Her."
But I don't really know what you want me to tell you. The future's already here and it's thrown out all your 'set' truths. Half a hundred years can do a number on the progressive... "A man in a crop top? Babe, don't be excessive. Change is only fine if it's lying behind my line." You've had your time, now the pulpit and mic is mine.
And I know I'm preaching to the choir,
but I don't see the need to be so perturbed. It's OK. (You're fine, mate.) I swear it won't hurt. And when you open your eyes, you'll see a whole new technicolour world.
You'll see it's 20XX. Yeah, you can be who you want, so imma keep it a little default. 20XX. Yeah, you can be coral, mauve or cyan and still be a mega man.
"Be who you are!" As long as it's someone that they've picked. "Stay true to your heart!" As long as it's safe, tried... prosaic! "Make it your own!" As long as it's simple and formulaic. Litmus tests show that 7 in 15 men are basic.
I'm really feeling for the people born prior to me. I guess I'm making good on my given port priority. Fruity is as Fruity does, but that don't mean that I loathe the 'sir.' (Dysphoria? I hardly know 'er!) And rumour says the pan man in feminine apparel fucks with any audio in either of the stereo channels... or anywhere in between.
So feel the groove and let the times be absurd. It's OK (You're 'right, mate!) to keep that line blurred. And if they're looking irate, check the date and let that motherfucker be heard.
Because it's 20XX. Oh, the squares have had their time. Now it's the era of the bent line. Yeah, you had just 56. But there are millions of colours on this planet, so we're gonna run the whole damn gamut!
20XX. Yeah, you can be who you want, so imma keep it a little default. 20, XY. And yet, they reckon it's a disguise; "Two X chromosomes in a cis guy."
I'm always happy to be the emissary of change. I'm always happy to go into tomorrow forsaking today. But that don't mean that I need me to be rearranged. No, I'm happy to stay.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwhh, fuck, but I'm a slut for a key change.
*cough* *cough*
Because it's 20XX. So there's no need to be shook when I start tearing up the guidebook. 20XX. Throw up your technicolour flags. Sing it one more time! For the fans!
20XX. Go tell the past to bow out, because the present's getting weird now. 20XX. So let's have some fun while we're here. We don't know what'll happen next year.
20XX.Chonny Jash - The That Handsome Devil Power HourChonny Jash2023-10-13 | Well this was just plain damn fun to make. Hope you enjoy! More music on the way (big surprise.)
00:00 SHUTUP YOU'RE STUPID 03:21 EVL PPL 07:10 SAVAGES 11:39 A DRINK TO DEATH 15:55 CHONNY'S INFERNO
20:01 SHUTUP YOU'RE STUPID INSTRUMENTAL 23:23 EVL PPL INSTRUMENTAL 27:12 SAVAGES INSTRUMENTAL 31:41 A DRINK TO DEATH INSTRUMENTAL 35:44 CHONNY'S INFERNO INSTRUMENTALCHONNYS INFERNO - Chonny JashChonny Jash2023-10-13 | There you go!!! Take your silly h*ll song!!! (I'm actually pretty happy with this one, so I hope you enjoy)
Here lies Chonny! You can tell it's him 'cos we put his name on the stone...
Ran his showers red hot! Never too good for a potshot. Take the long way 'round to work when the song got to the good part. He'd try to stay humble, but inevitably stumble when the kind words rolled in and his humility crumbled. Always dwell on what hurt him, lament and reassess. Bimonthly sink; depress in senseless, excess mental abscess. Tried to fight the demons that had caused him such stress. At about thirty-five, died of... well, take a guess.
Took his golden ascension. His family and friends incensed with fear and tension beyond their comprehension. "Catch ya later! I'm off to see the man upstairs. Let's hope he ain't been paying too much attention..."
There was an angel at the entrance, checking off a guest list. Chonny wasn't on it and was ushered to the exit. But let's be frank, we did expect this.
"Excuse me, sir! There must be something I could do ya for. Perhaps a favour - or a fiver - might open up those pearly doors. I'm awfully hard-working! There's something I could do, I'm sure." Pleading with the angels while they pushed him through the door.
"I said excuse me, sir! There must be something I could do ya for. Perhaps a favour - or a fiver! - might open up those pearly doors. I'm awfully hard-working! There's something I could do, I'm sure." Pleading with the angels while they pushed him through the door.
"ALL HOPE ABANDON, YE WHO ENTER IN!" Oh! Don't mind the sign, my friend. Its threat is weak and thin. We really only have it there to keep those squares upstairs at bay. We just started a hand of poker. You wanna play?
Uh-ha! Oh, right. You thought we'd have some chained up whores, tangled; hanged up by extension cords? A hellfire spit-roast main course, with a side of fried landlords? Well, sorry for the fright, but you can't believe all you read in the paper. That hit piece you call 'The Bible' was written by the world's greatest hater. (The world is run by evil people.)
And yes, of course, the Devil's wrought true wrath upon the wicked scourge; a murderer or rapist best beware his violent force. But here, we mostly dwell in what the fools up there expel. An awfully diverse cast of critters resides down here in Hell.
There was a demon cloaked in flames, putting checks on an invite list. Beside a line of names had lied a guide of signed indictments. "The bright, white islands high would get the boring ones excited, but trust me, man, you wouldn't like it."
"So do excuse me, sir. There must be something we could do ya for. Perhaps a snack or beverage - on the house - from Casa Infierno. There are plenty like-minded folk here! Perhaps they might entice you more..." Winking at the 'sinner' while they walked him through the door.
"Excuse me, sir. There must be something we could do ya for. Perhaps a snack or beverage - on the house! - from Casa Infierno. There are plenty like-minded folk here! Perhaps they might entice you more..." Winking at the 'sinner' while they walked him through the door.
You can run from your demons until you are exhausted. One day, you will have to stop and find out what they wanted. Keep running from your demons, till you are exhausted. You can run to those angels until you are exhausted. One day, you will have to stop and question what they wanted. Keep running to those angels, till you are exhausted.
"So do excuse me, sir. There must be something we could do ya for. (I don't want to die.) (Shut up, you're stupid. Just kiss me.) Perhaps a snack or beverage - on the house - from Casa Infierno. (At war with every species, from Dinosaur to Seaweed.) There are plenty like-minded folk here! Perhaps they might entice you more..." (Please don't let me die.) (Shut up, you're stupid. Just hold my friggin' hand.) Winking at the 'sinner' while they walked him through the door. (There will be no romance.)
"Excuse me, sir. There must be something we could do ya for. (I don't want to die.) (Shut up, you're stupid. Just kiss me.) Perhaps a snack or beverage - on the house! - from Casa Infierno. (At war with every species. Veni. Vidi. Vici.) There are plenty like-minded folk here! Perhaps they might entice you more..." (Please don't let me die.) (Shut up, you're stupid. Just be my friggin' man.) Winking at the 'sinner' while they walked him through the door.A DRINK TO DEATH - Chonny JashChonny Jash2023-10-12 | oooooooooooooooooooo...
"Make sure my glass is full. Let's crash and see how fast we go." He took a shot and held his breath. "I'm gonna drink myself to death."
It'll eat your insides. Your brain burns and your skin dries. Bumbling through the alleys like you think you're still alive. I wanna hold you closely. I wanna smell your sweat. I wanna drink myself to death.
There will be no candles. There will be no romance. I will be alone. We will not hold hands. There will be no toasting. There will be no romance. You are young. I am an old man.
And if I pass out, wake me up. I may be drunk but I'm not drunk enough. And everything keeps fucking up. We were nice together, weren't we, once? I'm drunk but I'm not drunk enough. We were nice together, weren't we, once?
Make sure my glass is full. We can laugh till I am blasting off. From now till nothing's left. I wanna drink myself to death. (I'm gonna drink myself to death.)
When I woke, it was daylight and the clouds were pink. The sun was coming up... or going down, I think. (I'm gonna drink myself to death.) You can't see their silver linings when your vision's blurred. A 151-proof tear detergent to clean what's down my shirt. (I'm gonna drink myself to death.)
Make sure my glass is full. Let's make the evening magical. The lies have no regrets. I'm gonna drink myself to death. (I'm gonna drink myself to death.)
Make sure my glass is full. I'll crash to see how fast I go. I'll take a shot and hold my breath. I'm gonna drink myself to death.
And the nights have lost their minds. And the mornings are unkind. And this, the last I see of you. The glass! Don't let me see it through.
And the nights have lost their minds. And the mornings are unkind. And this, the last I see of you. Smash the glass to make it meaningful.
Make sure my name is known, till the pain will make you wish you don't. Of life, we're all bereft. I just took mine before the rest.
Make sure my glass is full. Let's watch this white light turn to gold. Tonight is all that's left. I'm gonna drink myself to death.
And when I pass, don't call my bluff. I may be drunk but I'm not drunk enough to fight the me that's on this stuff. We were nice, but now I'm coarse and rough. I'm drunk but I'm not drunk enough. We were nice together, weren't we, once?SAVAGES - Chonny JashChonny Jash2023-10-11 | Back to your regularly scheduled weirdness.
It's funny, there I was. There I was, just ordering a Frappuccino with some pumpkin spice. Scrolling through the pictures. Scrolling through the pictures of some people that I didn't really like.
At war with every species, from Dinosaur to Seaweed. (Peace. Love. High fives. Free Wi-Fi.) At war with every species. Veni. Vidi. Vici. (Peace. Love. Tie-dye. Free Wi-Fi.)
I was just standing in the store. I had forgotten what I started looking for.
There must be something. There really must be something I can buy to make this feeling go away. There must be some way. There really must be some way to get high and make this feeling go away.
Somebody sell me something. Please, somebody sell me something. I am numb and I feel nothing. From the jump, my heart is pumping. Somebody tell me something. Please, somebody tell me something that is comfortable and loving. I am numb and I feel nothing.
Savages! Who work with ratios and averages. Governments. Establishments. Colouring and additives. Savages! Who work with ratios and averages. Savages!
It's funny, there I was. There I was, comparing who I am and who I saw behind the screen. It's funny how the pictures; RGB admixtures trick your senses into seeing grey as green.
At war with every subset. The Meaning v. The Subject. (Peace dies. Spite thrives. See life lie.) At war with every subset. The crowd loves an upset. (Teeth: bright. Smile: wide. Neat, white eyes.)
I was just standing in the aisle, searching for something I could buy to make me smile.
There must be something. There really must be something I can buy to make this feeling go away. There must be some way. There really must be some way to get high and make this feeling go away.
Somebody sell me something. Please, somebody sell me something. I am numb and I feel nothing. From the jump, my heart is pumping. Somebody tell me something. Please, somebody tell me something that is comfortable and loving. I am numb and I feel nothing.
Savages! Who work with ratios and averages. Governments. Establishments. Colouring and additives. Savages! Who work with ratios and averages. Savages!
I don't want another update, for fuck's sake. Just go to sleep. You just keep me up late. I don't want another update, for fuck's sake! This shit makes me weep. You owe me a sleep rebate... that I know you will not pay.
Somebody sell me something. Please, somebody sell me something. I am numb and I feel nothing. From the jump, my heart is pumping. Somebody tell me something. Please, somebody tell me something that is comfortable and loving. I am numb and I feel nothing.
Savages! Compensations and damages! Losses and balances! Hope the outlier averages! Savages! Who cut us down then sell bandages! Savages! Colourings and additives!
I don't understand. We were holding hands and stretching in our yoga pants. Recycling our soda cans. Voting, giving hope a chance.
I don't understand. We were holding hands. Recycling our soda cans. Voting, giving hope a chance.
I don't understand...EVL PPL - Chonny JashChonny Jash2023-10-10 | Potentially the most normal song I'll ever produce. I promise it won't become a pattern.
Well, we start it off with hearts aloft. No bereavement and no grievances; Adam and Eve with no diseases yet. Our principles start fading while we're waiting. We're compromised and tainted till we become the things we hated.
The world is run by evil people. The world is full of evil people, pleased with being deceitful. The world is run by evil people. The world will make us evil people. Beliefs are weak and feeble.
There are monsters, I have seen them, creeping in the evening, feasting on the dreams that we believe in. There are demons, I have seen them, skin-deep in my cerebrum, believing, when I'm weak, I might just feed them.
Our habits and our rituals aren't half as stacked as kismet's call. Our habits and our rituals are myths in mystics' crystal balls.
The world is run by evil people. The world is full of evil people, fearful of upheaval. The world is run by evil people. The world will make us evil people. Monkey see, monkey do.
They are looking at us hungrily. They know misery loves company. Bloodcurdling, yet comforting. Once they get you, they'll come for me.
The world is run by evil people. The world is full of evil people. If you leave, I'll be through. The world is run by evil people. The world will make us evil people. Please don't leave, I need you.SHUTUP YOURE STUPID (Music Video) - Chonny JashChonny Jash2023-10-09 | Now 50% more Fruity! (Author's Note: You have the responsibility and duty as an audience to not be weird about this song. Well, like. A little weird is OK. Just don't take it too far.)
“They read your palm! Lead you on! Tell you everything you need is gone! The energy you’re feeding on!” He does his best impression of me. Says it came out “unintentionally.”
“Is it a simulation? Or an incantation? Perhaps it’s just the sinking of vibrations? Or perhaps, you’ll never guess: There is no subtext. Let’s just get undressed." Huh.
Taking all my vitamins. Searching for enlightenment. The world is way too frightening. There’s not much that I like in it.
Shut up, you’re stupid. Just kiss me. Shut up, you’re stupid. Just hold my friggin’ hand.
Well I thought “Maybe I’ll shoot my shot at one of those handsome faces... Have a couple drinks, make my stance advantageous; play my pair of pocket aces." I’ll get the courage to ask him out. He’ll say he don’t like men and giggle with his friends. I’ll bust my hand and never see him again. Whoop.
Taking all my vitamins. Searching for enlightenment. The world is way too frightening. There’s not much that I like in it.
Taking all my vitamins. Searching for enlightenment. The world is way too frightening. There’s not much that I like in it. Oh, except you.
Shut up, you’re stupid. Just kiss me. Shut up, you’re stupid. Just hold my friggin’ hand. Shut up, you’re stupid. Just kiss me. Shut up, you’re stupid. Just be my friggin’ man.
Can’t keep my mind off of that kind of love. Sitting on the sidewalk, getting high and stuff. Can't keep my mind off of that kind of love. Drinking through the night, dancing till light comes up. Can’t keep my mind off of that kind of love. Sitting on the sidewalk, getting high and stuff. Can't keep my mind off of that kind of love. Drinking through the night, dancing till light comes up.Fine, Im Fine INSTRUMENTALChonny Jash2023-09-02 | I'm way too happy with this instrumental to not upload it. Enjoy.