junk

A six-minute rock ballad about a ring that was never given.

Still in the drawer. Still heavy. The morning light, the comfortable breeze, the movie theater, the coat folded and thrown away - all of it is junk without you. And yet the world keeps going. "Still junk. But the days we shared are still breathing inside me." Orchestral strings, acoustic guitar, and a voice that barely holds together.

A mystery artist with 500+ original demos, now releasing independently via AI-assisted arrangement.