UNTENDED GRAVES

Step Into The Light

FLOURISHING

Devour

Vorynth – The Noise They Can’t Kill

The Noise They Can’t Kill is an anthem for the overlooked and the over-silenced — a record that claws through censorship, scapegoating, and control with defiance in every note. Across ten tracks, Vorynth builds a cathedral of sound out of static, distortion, and rebellion, reminding us: “Stop punching down, start looking up.”

From the digital fury of 404_Freedom Not Found to the sing-along bite of Scapegoat Season, the chaotic distortion of Signal Jammer, and the apocalyptic climax of The Final Algorithm, the album weaves protest and catharsis into one unstoppable surge. The title track, The Noise They Can’t Kill, stands as a manifesto — a reminder that voices raised together can outlast any machine.

This isn’t just noise. It’s survival. It’s rebellion. It’s the sound they can’t erase.

Virus For The Hate Machine

Text:
Verse 1
Twenty bucks for a cut, I pay and I’m gone,
But in parliament the blow-dry goes on.
Tax-paid powder, a smile on demand,
While justice slips right out of hand.

Pre-Chorus
They pose in the mirror, we count every cent,
That’s not glamour, it’s a crack in the cement.

Chorus
Money flows elsewhere, not where it burns,
We pay for the show, but get nothing in return.
Money flows elsewhere, not where it’s real,
Styling on the bill while the people can’t heal.

(solo)

Verse 2
Scissors in the barbershop, click-clack cheap,
But up on the hill, the gold runs deep.
Make-up on flights, we’re saving on meals,
They powder their foreheads, we’re chained to the wheels.

Pre-Chorus
They pose in the mirror, we count every cent,
That’s not glamour, it’s a crack in the cement.

Chorus
Money flows elsewhere, not where it burns,
We pay for the show, but get nothing in return.
Money flows elsewhere, not where it’s real,
Styling on the bill while the people can’t heal.

(solo)

Bridge
The scissors cut deeper than hair on the floor,
Each strand is a symbol of who they ignore.
They talk of duty, of carrying the weight,
But behind the make-up, there’s nothing but state.

Final Chorus
Money flows elsewhere, we see it so bright,
The spotlight is shining, but nothing is right.
Money flows elsewhere, we’re stuck in the rain,
They pose for the cameras, we’re left with the pain.

Hard Truths Cut Both Ways

Incendiary

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