A cat called Spigo
raw, storytelling, nostalgic immersive, grunge, intense, folk-infused layers country pop and folktronica , rugged, soulful, organic, alternative, mid-tempo blues country -pop with heartfelt male vocals, soft electric guitar, ambient layers, emotional storytelling, themes of quiet conflict, and emotional wounds, soulful pop-rock, Chill trance mix acoustic instrumental evolving dynamically across sections, Begins with fingerpicked arpeggios outlining shapes, using alternating bass technique and subtle hammer-ons/pull-offs for ornamentation, Midsection transitions to rapid percussive slaps and rhythmic thumb hits on low C string, creating layered polyphonic textures, Slides, harmonics, and tapping integrated with intricate 32nd note flourishes, especially around high E (12th–15th frets), Emotional phrasing, dynamic swells from pp to ff
A cat called Spigo
raw, storytelling, nostalgic immersive, grunge, intense, folk-infused layers country pop and folktronica , rugged, soulful, organic, alternative, mid-tempo blues country -pop with heartfelt male vocals, soft electric guitar, ambient layers, emotional storytelling, themes of quiet conflict, and emotional wounds, soulful pop-rock, Chill trance mix acoustic instrumental evolving dynamically across sections, Begins with fingerpicked arpeggios outlining shapes, using alternating bass technique and subtle hammer-ons/pull-offs for ornamentation, Midsection transitions to rapid percussive slaps and rhythmic thumb hits on low C string, creating layered polyphonic textures, Slides, harmonics, and tapping integrated with intricate 32nd note flourishes, especially around high E (12th–15th frets), Emotional phrasing, dynamic swells from pp to ff
Lyrics
(Verse 1)
Do the days go by,
or do the days go by
on me?
I’m so tired of thinking,
no more doors, no key.
A road that ends, nowhere to go,
a silent crowd, but nothing to show.
And seeing the glass, half-empty I admit,
like ex-alcoholic, I’m choking bit
(Chorus)
yes Sure,
Sure, I’m grateful, God above,
maybe for a friend, a kind of love.
a voice that makes me less alone.
A stranger cat, softly sings Spigo's song
calling Spigo's song
(Verse 2)
Yes, my life feels urgent and gray,
like an old film in black-and-gray.
The bed keeps pushing me away,
I eat cold breakfast past midday.
At midnight I toast, the radio’s on,
singing old songs till the night is gone.
(Chorus)
Yes, Sure
Sure, I’m grateful, God above,
for a friend, a kind of love.
A stranger cat, softly sings Spigo's song
calling ...Spigo's song
(Verse 3)
I touched the dawn, I kissed the night,
I held the stars, I saw their light.
I heard the whales, the mermaids too,
but still I ask: is this all true?
Interlude – acoustic
(Outro)
The world’s one click — it never stops,
maybe it wakes with a thunderous shock.
the days still pass,
and they fall on me.
Yes, the days still pass,
but today
but today is
Spigo's day
(Strofa 1)
Passano i giorni,
o passano i giorni
su di me?
Sono così stanco di pensare,
niente più porte, niente più chiavi.
Una strada che finisce, nessun posto dove andare,
una folla silenziosa, ma niente da mostrare.
E vedendo il bicchiere, mezzo vuoto, lo ammetto,
come un ex alcolizzato, sto soffocando un po'
(Coro)
Sì, certo,
certo, sono grato, Dio lassù,
forse per un amico, una specie di amore.
una voce che mi rende meno solo.
Un gatto sconosciuto, canta dolcemente la canzone di Spigo
chiamando la canzone di Spigo
(Strofa 2)
Sì, la mia vita sembra urgente e grigia,
come un vecchio film in bianco e nero.
Il letto continua a respingermi,
faccio una colazione fredda dopo mezzogiorno.
A mezzanotte brindo, la radio è accesa,
cantando vecchie canzoni finché la notte non passa.
(Coro)
Sì, certo
Certo, sono grato, Dio lassù,
per un amico, una specie di amore.
Un gatto sconosciuto, canta dolcemente la canzone di Spigo
chiamando...la canzone di Spigo
(Strofa 3)
Ho toccato l'alba, ho baciato la notte,
ho tenuto le stelle, ho visto la loro luce.
Ho sentito le balene, anche le sirene,
ma continuo a chiedermi: è tutto vero?
Interludio – acustico
(Outro)
Il mondo è un clic - non si ferma mai,
forse si sveglia con un fragoroso shock.
i giorni passano ancora,
e cadono su di me.
Sì, i giorni passano ancora,
ma oggi
ma oggi è
il giorno di Spigo