Who’s Gonna Find My Sex Toys When I Die ~ Poetry / Lyrics ~ Mobius∆Tripz / AscenzIon

Who’s Gonna Find My Sex Toys When I Die

(Verse 1)
When I leave this mortal coil and kiss this world goodbye
There’ll be tears and casseroles and people dressed up nice
They’ll say, “He was complicated,” and “He lived a private life”
Then somebody opens up that drawer
And chaos fills the night

(Pre-Chorus)
Aunt Linda drops her reading glasses
Cousin Mike just stares
The preacher starts revising half
His scheduled funeral prayers

(Chorus)
Who’s gonna find my sex toys when I die?
Who’s gonna hold them up and ask the good Lord why?
Who’s gonna sort through all my secrets, shelf by shelf?
And whisper, “Well... he really did enjoy himself”
Who’s gonna find my sex toys when I die?
I hope they’ve all got labels and at least a brief reply

(Verse 2)
There’s the innocent decoy box with old receipts and cords
Then underneath, the velvet bag
No one can ignore
A battery charger, mystery straps
A thing I can’t explain
And one device so terrifying
It should come with its own chain

(Pre-Chorus)
My nephew says, “What even is this?”
No one wants to speak
My sister says, “Put that thing down”
My brother’s turning weak

(Chorus)
Who’s gonna find my sex toys when I die?
Who’s gonna catalog the weirdness I kept hidden from the light?
Who’s gonna need a therapist by half past three?
After finding out far too much about the private side of me
Who’s gonna find my sex toys when I die?
Lord, I should’ve made a will with less potential to horrify

(Bridge)
So if you love your family
And want to spare their soul
Don’t leave a dungeon starter kit
In a shoebox by the coats
Take a weekend, clean it up
Be kind before you go
‘Cause grief is hard enough
Without... accessories in tow

(Final Chorus)
Who’s gonna find my sex toys when I die?
Who’s gonna stand there frozen with a thousand-yard-eyed sigh?
Who’s gonna say, “We never knew this side of him”
Then quietly throw out half the evidence and never speak again
Who’s gonna find my sex toys when I die?
Probably the one relative I least would like to traumatize

(Outro)
So write your will, clear your shelf
Protect your name, preserve your health
And if you leave behind a vibe
At least don’t leave it set to “high”

BEAUTIFUL ~ poetry / lyrics ~ Mobius∆Tripz

I was standing in the quiet of a half-lit room
Trying to remember who I was before you
Every scar had a story I kept sealed tight
Every truth I buried came alive in your eyes

You touched the parts of me I learned to defend
The places I swore I would never let bend
Love didn’t ask me to be strong or pretend
It just stayed long enough to let me break again

The most beautiful things break us, tear the armor away
They crack us wide open, leave nothing to say
The most beautiful things make us out of what we survive
They ruin us softly just to show us we’re alive

I learned that pain isn’t the opposite of grace
Sometimes it’s the door, sometimes it’s the place
You don’t walk through love without losing control
You don’t find your heart without risking your soul

If I had known what it would cost to feel this deep
I still would have paid it, no promises to keep
Because being untouched was never being free
And I’d rather be broken than never be me

The most beautiful things break us, tear the armor away
They crack us wide open, leave nothing to say
The most beautiful things make us out of what we survive
They ruin us softly just to show us we’re alive

The most beautiful things break us, and I finally see
They don’t destroy us — they remake who we’ll be
The most beautiful things make us through fire and truth
We’re built from the wreckage of love and of youth

Spring A'coming ~ Country Seasoning ~ Poetry / Lyrics ~ MobiusTripz/ AscenzIon

It’s been a hard long dark cold winter

But the shift is coming soon
Spring it wasn’t coming fast enough
This winter near spelled my ruin
Chopping wood and feeding fires
Smoke rising to the moon
Praying for the thaw to break
And green to come in bloom

Chopping wood and loading the stove
Chill cut clean to the bone
Keeping this old cabin warm
Is harder when you’re alone

Wasn’t sure I’d make it through
Food scarce on the table
Snow on the ground wind howling loud
Stock shivering in the stable
But I kept that flame and I kept my Faith

Through every bitter drummin’
Thank God above I’m still standing here
I feel that spring a’coming

Working hard from sunup down
Getting older every day
Time runs faster than it used to
Like the light just slips away
Some nights doubt would whisper low
Cold as frozen rain
But the Good Lord plants a stubborn seed
Deep inside a man through pain

I see it in the way the creek
Breaks loose beneath the ice
Hear it in the morning birds
Singing soft but twice as bright
Hope rising with the muddy thaw
Life waking from the numb
After every frozen trial
The warmer days will come

Chopping wood but smiling now
Sun warming my skin
Cabin door swung open wide
Let that new day in
Snowmelt running down the hill
Fields humming and thrumming
Hard long winter couldn’t break me down
I knew that spring was coming

Country Seasoning Album ~ Band Description ~ Country Seasoning Album & ART

Ver 1 (837 characters / 1000 max allowed) ...

What follows below is the generic way the band always sounds for their country music and then after that the next paragraph is each individual song so this only goes to one song in particular (Iron, Shine and Smoke)

________________________________________________

AscenzIon is a multi-genre band whose country sound delivers warm front-porch grit with steel guitar, fiddle, organ swells, steady backbeat, rich harmonies, and dry baritone vocals, blending outlaw honesty, gospel undertones, and modern Americana restraint.

In its country form, the band balances smokehouse warmth with stripped-down realism—rolling acoustic rhythm, subtle electric edge, and communal harmony hooks. Storytelling comes first, letting dry humor sit naturally inside serious themes shaped by fire, faith, work, and weather.

“Country Seasoning” is a front-porch anthem built on smoke, fellowship, and slow-cooked truth. Cookout imagery carries a deeper message: character, like barbecue, is formed by time and heat. It celebrates church gatherings, family tables, and strong hearts shaped the long way—earn it, don’t fake it.

________________________________________________

Ver 2 (  characters / 1000 max allowed)

Country Ascension delivers warm front-porch grit with steel guitar, fiddle, organ swells, steady backbeat, rich harmonies, and dry baritone vocals, blending outlaw honesty, gospel undertones, and modern Americana restraint.

(below should have been the song description but it sounds like the band description) 

The sound balances smokehouse warmth with unpolished realism—cast iron percussion, rolling acoustic rhythm, subtle electric edge, and harmony hooks that feel communal rather than flashy. Influences echo classic outlaw country, Southern gospel gatherings, and contemporary roots revival, yet remain stripped-down and grounded. Every arrangement supports storytelling first, letting humor sit naturally inside serious themes, where fire, faith, work, and weather shape both melody and message.

________________________________________________

Ver 3

AscenzIon is a multi-genre band whose country sound delivers warm front-porch grit layered with steel guitar, fiddle, organ swells, steady backbeat, rich harmonies, and dry baritone vocals. Blending outlaw honesty, gospel undertones, and modern Americana restraint, the band favors substance over spectacle.

In its country form, AscenzIon balances smokehouse warmth with stripped-down realism—rolling acoustic rhythm, subtle electric edge, and communal harmony hooks. Storytelling leads every arrangement, allowing dry humor to sit naturally inside serious themes shaped by fire, faith, work, and weather.

“Country Seasoning” is a front-porch anthem built on smoke, fellowship, and slow-cooked truth. Cookout imagery carries a deeper message: character, like barbecue, is formed by time and heat. It celebrates church gatherings, family tables, and strong hearts shaped the long way—earn it, don’t fake it.

Where Home Waits ~ Lyrics ~ Mobius∆Tripz /AscenzIon

They gather where the blankets hold my shape,

paws folded into the hollow I leave behind.
One at the foot like a quiet guard,
one at the pillow breathing soft and slow,
one listening for my steps in the hall
as if the house itself depends on them.

To them
I am the door that closes against the night.
I am the steady warmth beneath their ribs.
I am the place the wandering ends.

They wait because I am Home.

And yet I linger awake in the dim light,
restless,
heart pacing farther than my body ever travels.

Because there is one
whose absence hums inside my chest
like an unfinished chord.

The bed is full of fur and breathing,
yet a space remains
no animal can fill.

They wait for me
certain I will return.

I wait for the one I love
with that same certainty —
or at least I try to.

To them,
I am Home.

To me,
that one is Home.

So I move between these two truths:
guardian and guarded,
anchor and adrift,
the place returned to
and the one still waiting.

They sleep when I lie down.

I do not fully sleep
until Home
comes back to me.

________________________________________________

Style:

AscenzIon is a multi-genre band whose country sound delivers warm front-porch grit with steel guitar, fiddle, organ swells, steady backbeat, rich harmonies, and dry baritone vocals, blending outlaw honesty, gospel undertones, and modern Americana restraint.
In its country form, the band balances smokehouse warmth with stripped-down realism—rolling acoustic rhythm, subtle electric edge, and communal harmony hooks. Storytelling comes first, letting dry humor sit naturally inside serious themes shaped by fire, faith, work, and weather.

“Where Home Waits” is a slow-burning country ballad built on fingerpicked acoustic guitar and brushed snare heartbeat, with pedal steel sighs and soft piano swells. The baritone vocal stays restrained and weathered, carrying quiet devotion and longing. The arrangement grows gently, never explosive—intimate, faithful, and steady as a porch light left on.

Iron, Shine & Smoke ~ Country Seasoning Album ~ AscenzIon

Granddaddy kept a Winchester over the door

Said it weren’t for trouble, just in case there’s more

Copper still hummin’ down by the creek

Sugar in the mash and the hush talkin’ low and sweet

Tin roof rattlin’ in a summer storm
Jar on the table keepin’ spirits warm
Smoke drift slow from a rolled-up leaf
Ain’t no rush when you live out deep

Iron, shine, and smoke
Just the way the backwoods cope
A little spark and a little heat
Ain’t nothin’ here that ain’t been spoke
We don’t preach, we don’t boast
We just mind our own
Iron, shine, and smoke

Boot heel grindin’ red clay dust
Hand on the wheel and a little bit of trust
Sheriff waves but he knows the score
Same church pew since ’84

Flame licks high in a barrel drum
Sweet corn liquor when the night air hums
Stars hang low like they’re leanin’ in
Hear that old screen door creak again

Iron, shine, and smoke
Just the way the backwoods cope
Smoke in the pines and steel on oak
Some call it sin, some call it folk
We don’t shout, we don’t poke
We just let it roll
Iron, shine, and smoke

Some folks read it in a magazine
We just live what’s always been
If the world gets loud, we let it pass
Got iron in hand and jars in glass

Iron, shine, and smoke
A little wild, a little slow
From the hills to the river bend
What we were is what we tend
You don’t fake this code
Iron, shine, and smoke

_____________

Granddaddy kept a Winchester over the door,

Said it weren’t for trouble, just in case there’s more

Copper still hummin’ down by the creek
Sugar in the mash and the hush talkin’ low and sweet

Tin roof rattlin’ in a summer storm
Jar on the table keepin’ spirits warm
Smoke drift slow from a rolled-up leaf
Ain’t no rush when you live out deep

Iron, shine, and smoke
Just the way the backwoods cope
A little spark and a little heat
Ain’t nothin’ here that ain’t been spoke
We don’t preach, we don’t boast
We just mind our own
Iron, shine, and smoke

Boot heel grindin’ red clay dust
Hand on the wheel and a little bit of trust
Sheriff waves but he knows the score
Same church pew since ’84

Flame licks high in a barrel drum
Sweet corn liquor when the night air hums
Stars hang low like they’re leanin’ in
Hear that old screen door creak again

Iron, shine, and smoke
Just the way the backwoods cope
Smoke in the pines and steel on oak
Some call it sin, some call it folk
We don’t shout, we don’t poke
We just let it roll
Iron, shine, and smoke

Some folks read it in a magazine
We just live what’s always been
If the world gets loud, we let it pass
Got iron in hand and jars in glass

Iron, shine, and smoke
A little wild, a little slow
From the hills to the river bend
What we were is what we tend
You don’t fake this code
Iron, shine, and smoke

________________________________________________

30-Word Band Sound Description (Standard Intro Block):

Country Ascension delivers warm front-porch grit with steel guitar, fiddle, organ swells, steady backbeat, rich harmonies, and dry baritone vocals, blending outlaw honesty, gospel undertones, and modern Americana restraint.

70-Word Band Identity Expansion:

The sound balances smokehouse warmth with unpolished realism—cast iron percussion, rolling acoustic rhythm, subtle electric edge, and harmony hooks that feel communal rather than flashy. Influences echo classic outlaw country, Southern gospel gatherings, and contemporary roots revival, yet remain stripped-down and grounded. Every arrangement supports storytelling first, letting humor sit naturally inside serious themes, where fire, faith, work, and weather shape both melody and message.

Ain't The Quittin' Kind ~ Poetry / Lyrics ~ Mobius∆Tripz/ AscenzIon

He swore on a porch light in July heat
Said forever don’t scare me, it’s just you and me
Had dirt on his boots and a ring in his hand
Said I ain’t the quittin’ kind of man

But the wind changed direction, the fields went dry
Promises faded like an old red sky
It wasn’t the leaving that hurt like hell
It was watching him lie to himself

The betrayal ain’t the leaving
It ain’t the tears on the shelf
It ain’t the door slam closing
Or loving somebody else
It’s when you trade your word for comfort
When the truth gets sold for wealth
The betrayal ain’t me or you
It’s the betrayal of the self

Mama and Daddy made it look easy
Sixty-three years and they still held hands freely
They didn’t run when the rain came down
They stood in the storm and they stood their ground

Now everybody’s chasing something new
Swiping through hearts like they’re passing through
But what’s it worth if you can’t be true
To the one man staring back at you

The betrayal ain’t the fighting
It ain’t asking for help
It ain’t saying I’m broken
Or needing some time to heal yourself
It’s when you walk away from your own reflection
Just to save yourself
The betrayal ain’t loving wrong
It’s the betrayal of the self

I ain’t perfect, I’ve bent before
I’ve stared at an open door
But I’d rather sleep on a lonely bed
Than wake up knowing my word is dead

Yeah the betrayal ain’t the heartbreak
It ain’t being left on the shelf
It ain’t the miles between us
Or loving somebody else
It’s when you trade your soul for easy
When you let your courage melt
The worst damn thing a man can do
Is betray his own damn self

________________________________________________

~ AscenzIon ~ 

AscenzIon is a multi-genre band whose country sound delivers warm front-porch grit with steel guitar, fiddle, organ swells, steady backbeat, rich harmonies, and dry baritone vocals, blending outlaw honesty, gospel undertones, and modern Americana restraint.

In its country form, the band balances smokehouse warmth with stripped-down realism—rolling acoustic rhythm, subtle electric edge, and communal harmony hooks. Storytelling comes first, letting dry humor sit naturally inside serious themes shaped by fire, faith, work, and weather.

“Country Seasoning” is a front-porch anthem built on smoke, fellowship, and slow-cooked truth. Cookout imagery carries a deeper message: character, like barbecue, is formed by time and heat. It celebrates church gatherings, family tables, and strong hearts shaped the long way—earn it, don’t fake it.