As The City Rumbles Underneath – Hearts Expire…………

“Hearts Expire” is a mix of elemental references (lyrically) , guitars from the heart
and a bright pop beat .
Greatly inspired by Space, the gravity of love and all its facets – It explores the perpetual “need” for freedom within the heart and soul .

Many thanks to the people who worked on this video with us:
Directed by: Hunter Lua
Director of Photography: Jake Vincent
Edited: Roz Gracie


Cat Forsley and Ashton Price met in September 2012 and decided to start collaborating on a project because of a mutual interest in dreamy, ambient music. They decided to release their music under the band name “As the City Rumbles Underneath”. Ashton Price is an accomplished music producer and writer that has a studio based out of Toronto. Cat Forsley is a poet and artist that enjoys using her talents for animal advocacy.

and check out our links here for more info:

 The wonderful Ashton and Cat

mother of the great flesh invention

the project

as songs and tales will have you know,

came from that technology,

mechanical milk pumped breast

delicious cream

to an unstilled conscious ,

stellar glow watches from above

as we evolve in growth

cell textures merge

and we appear

units that almost conform

yet defined by our features

unique to our body own,

then comes the urge

to put our own smudge

on this planet of

blue white and green,

the inquisitive sing

something called love

and by way of this

activate that thing called passion,

contortions and twists of

celebrated ecstasy

clamoring sweat

and processing our breed

by way of natural birth

swollen stomach

to be held and kissed,

as the mantra is found

and we have arrived


Merry Christmas



Merry Christmas to all my friends and blog followers thank you for all your comments and support i really appreciate all of you and if you read this in passing on a blog voyage you are always welcome love to all , all the best and enjoy

The Occupants

light a match to see the day,

clouds have darkened us now

pages from an idle press

avoid the subject of our lives

tender kiss an infants hand

and look into its eyes,

beyond the womb

we are still occupants

figuring out where we stand,

they tell us in a filtered way

we listen, then realise

the answer will be no

bread mops up gravy

but is no good for pain

TV shows give us reality

but that is idle  noise,

we have seen as clouds

stripped back

the ugly beast created

by greed and negligence,

now raise your hands

and raise your voice

the light is upon us