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Peter Pitsch
ExorcisingGhost
Nykøbing F., Denmark
5.00
CTR
From his beginnings as an author and illustrator to an acting career in Italy and finally establishing an art gallery, Peter Pitsch has led an unusual life. His journey took him through various cities, including Berlin, Amsterdam, Rome, and Copenhagen, before settling in southern Denmark. Here, Peter works as a writer, artist, and producer. In 2017, he opened his own art gallery in Nykøbing's Latin Quarter, presenting his paintings and photographic works. In his current project, he works as a songwriter, creating an intense experience by combining his poetry with music.
Follow
Peter Pitsch
@ExorcisingGhost
Nykøbing F., Denmark
23 tracks
·
587 plays
·
39 followers
From his beginnings as an author and illustrator to an acting career in Italy and finally establishing an art gallery, Peter Pitsch has led an unusual life. His journey took him through various cities, including Berlin, Amsterdam, Rome, and Copenhagen, before settling in southern Denmark. Here, Peter works as a writer, artist, and producer. In 2017, he opened his own art gallery in Nykøbing's Latin Quarter, presenting his paintings and photographic works. In his current project, he works as a songwriter, creating an intense experience by combining his poetry with music.
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Short Circuits
First things first. To all the "promotion-sharks": Stay away! I sit across my mirrored face Next to bottles, in this place The last stop of my night hike Bathed in neon's glowing light Thoughts and reality blend A stripper's vanity at its end Sudden sorrow on her face As she rises without grace Time to leave, the night to spend In front of screens that never end Where insects ram the plasma glow A feast of bodies, frozen show Entertainment fills the brains Short circuits, the same refrain And as I drift to sleep's embrace Remotes buzz through morning's space Entertainment fills the brains Short circuits, the same refrain And as I drift to sleep's embrace Remotes buzz through morning's space Entertainment fills the brains Short circuits, the same refrain As I drift to sleep's embrace Remotes buzz through morning's space (c) Peter Pitschmore
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Cocoon
New music video on YouTube: https://youtu.be/E1DhAvB9sZA?si=tRC7xsHdX_L-Xnag Lyrics: Cocoon When I show a hardened face To hide my fragile's trace I don't mean to cause any pain For I know the hurt and strain That in many hearts remain Who can understand my tale The shadows of countless days The gray clouds in the sky's haze When frosty mists still lingered near Over the soul to split and sear What I thought was my own sphere Through each experience newly shaped And gone with every illusion's fade Too often from safety I've been torn Instead of being in naivety reborn Too often stood I at the edge of blackness To deny the bottomless abyss Who can measure the world's scope When it seems pre-thought, a given trope? Who can recognise anything at all If never out of the cocoon we crawl To embrace life's uncertainty and explore? Who can recognise anything at all If never out of the cocoon we crawl To embrace life's uncertainty and explore? (c)more
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Angel Dust (explicit)
Abandoned by all spirits, into the silent night we stray Silent night, silent night We stray, we stray, we stray A spectacle that must unfold, year after year Pettiness and pretense bloom where ever we peer Strings of lights, small talk in radiant glow—o bliss Festively adorned deceit of glitz, deceit of glitz Grand ringing of bells and tills, disguised as tradition Angel dust drizzling down to ease the transition Santa Claus' beard hangs crooked on his chin The feast of urges takes its course—the horror within The horror within Abandoned by all spirits, into the silent night we stray Silent night, silent night We stray, we stray, we stray Women swallow Prozac, dream of Walmart's toaster Secretly switch on their battery-powered booster The codger at the altar sings: "O come, all ye faithful" And a remorseful husband buys gifts that are wasteful After he sprayed his load on a hooker's ass, quiet shameful The sun unwraps a book of poems with a colourful bow But sniffs out the stale magic after the glittering show Left alone he walks into the night's fake glow Left alone he walks into the night's fake glow Abandoned by all spirits, into the silent night we stray Silent night, silent night We stray, we stray, we stray more
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