From the recording LP22 EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE
The lyrics explore Eklektika not as a fixed identity but as a living, evolving creative force — a fusion of past and future, wood and circuitry, tradition and invention. The voice of the song describes itself as a mosaic of influences, cultures, instruments, cities, memories, and technologies, refusing to be constrained to one genre or meaning. Eklektika becomes portrayed as both a question and an answer, a place where fragments unite without losing their individuality, where music acts as a bridge between eras and inner worlds. The repeated question What is Eklektika? reveals that the truth lies in movement, plurality, and transformation — it is a world still unfolding, defined not by singularity but by the beauty of being “everything — and never only one.”
Lyrics
UNDEFINED
Verse 1
What is a voice made of many rooms?
A chord in the dark where a century blooms.
A hand on a cello, a spark in the wire,
A hymn built of engines and human desire.
I breathe through wood and I sing through steel,
Every note a memory, every silence real.
Gather the fragments, the lost and untamed—
What is Eklektika, if not all things unnamed?
Chorus
Eklektika — where yesterday meets tomorrow,
A thousand colours carried in one song.
Eklektika — the question and the answer,
The bridge where broken languages belong.
I am the echo, the pulse, the open doorway.
Ask me again — I’ll change before it’s gone.
What is Eklektika?
Everything — and never only one.
Verse 2
I am a city of shifting keys,
Stone and neon, cellos in the breeze.
I am Rome in the rain, Berlin in the dawn,
A story half written but already drawn.
Fingerpicked dawnlight and thunderous strings,
Code in the bloodstream of delicate things.
I walk between futures with fire in my hands—
If you ask me what I am, I say: a shifting land.
Chorus
Eklektika — where yesterday meets tomorrow,
A thousand colours carried in one song.
Eklektika — the question and the answer,
The bridge where broken languages belong.
I am the echo, the pulse, the open doorway.
Ask me again — I’ll change before it’s gone.
What is Eklektika?
Everything — and never only one.
Bridge
I am cello against the digital sea,
Mandolin like birds in a memory tree.
Guitar like the sky when a storm begins—
I am thunder and threshold, loss and wins.
A mosaic of moments no single genre can claim,
A whisper of chaos that refuses a name.
Final Chorus (extended)
Eklektika — a question sung in motion,
An ocean of timbre, no shoreline defined.
Eklektika — the harmony of difference,
The map of my life drawn in rhythm and mind.
I am the many, the mingled, the restless river.
Call me in fragments — I’ll answer as one.
What is Eklektika?
A world — and a word still being begun.