D. Pace
D. is 20 years old.
He is the Drummer of Kitchen Pace.
D. is located in Tallinn at Kiirtee linnast välja.
D. likes to go for a walk during off hours and is trying to compose music in order to get ahead professionally.
Be excellent to each other!
A Poet or a Madman
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Song Details
A Poet or a Madman is Easy Listening music in tempo Moderato. The music is sweet and the lyrics are awesome. The song was written 8/20/2025 by D. Pace. The originality is perfect.
| Fame: |
18 |
| Popularity: |
|
| Stage Potential: |
20 |
| Genre: |
World Music |
| Owner: |
Kitchen Pace |
| First Revealed: |
8/21/2025 |
Dominant Instruments
Harp
Lead Vocals
Lead Vocals
Backup Vocals
Drums
Special Lyrics
They say that on the highest peak, where the clouds all tear and mend,
A lonely summit waits for those who have a soul to lend.
One night beneath the moonless sky, where the cold winds bite and burn,
And you will leave a different man, a lesson you will learn.
The village elders whisper tales, a warning in their eyes,
Of those who climbed that sacred stone to chase a greater prize.
A poet or a madman, the legend's simple plea,
A turn of fate, a coin tossed high, for all the world to see.
A mind that finds a rhythm, a beauty in the rain,
Or one that screams at shadows, and feels an endless pain.
A poet or a madman, a choice the mountain makes,
For every lonely, wandering soul its heavy silence takes.
The morning sun will find you there, a vessel, new and strange,
Your heart a drum, your thoughts a storm, a life that's rearranged.
Some speak in rhyme of ancient trees, of rivers flowing free,
Their words a gift to all who hear, a fragile symphony.
And others babble at the stones, and see what isn't there,
Their minds a shattered, broken thing, a whisper of despair.
A poet or a madman, the legend's simple plea,
A turn of fate, a coin tossed high, for all the world to see.
A mind that finds a rhythm, a beauty in the rain,
Or one that screams at shadows, and feels an endless pain.
A poet or a madman, a choice the mountain makes,
For every lonely, wandering soul its heavy silence takes.
I heard their warnings, saw their fear, but still I had to go.
To touch the sky, to feel the chill, to let the wild winds blow.
I spent the night and watched the stars, a million burning eyes,
And felt a change deep in my bones beneath those endless skies.
Now when I speak, the words come strange, a melody, a sigh.
Do I see truth the rest can't feel, or just a waking lie?
My hand still writes, my pen still moves, a feeling I can't name,
Am I the one who writes the song... or am I just the flame?
A poet... or a madman? I truly cannot say.
I just know I'm not the man who left at yesterday.