Not everyone will handle your truth, and that’s OK. This is for the souls who still speak light even in the dark. May this song hold space for your fire, your softness, and your faith. Full, fierce, and unapologetically you. #TruthOfTheHeart #SonicDominion #DancehallSoul #Unapologetic

TRUTH OF THE HEART

street cat by Nova J

[Verse 1]
What’s your life like?
Flirting with your green eyes
Captivating me
Seducing me
I’m your slave 
This feral mind of mine
How it wanders, how it churns
These wild thoughts keep swirling
How they simmer, how they burn

[Chorus]
What it must be like…
To be a street cat…
To wander…
To roam…
To be free…

Ooh ooh

[Vers 2]
I fear for you
I don’t want your life to be hard
You take a drink and I feel chosen
But only for a moment before you run away 
You belong to no one
You are possessed by no one
You are sworn to no one 

[Chorus]
What it must be like…
To be a street cat…
To wander…
To roam…
To be free…

Ooh ooh

[Bridge]
The sun is finally shining
After two long weeks of rain
I even caught myself smiling
Like the old me again
But the storm always returns
And the wind always blows
My restless mind
These thoughts never slow

[Chorus]
What it must be like…
To be a street cat…
To wander…
To roam…
To be free…

Ooh ooh 

[Outro]
I try to sit quiet
I try to sit calm
Typhoons and tempests
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)
Spiraling on (and on, and on)

street cat

PSALMS – VOL. I: ROOTED BY THE RIVER – The Shaken Remnant

Synopsis:
Volume I walks through Psalms 1–15 as a modern song cycle, each track paraphrasing a psalm into its own fully formed song. The set moves from the rooted calm of Psalm 1 to the roar of Psalm 2, the soul and gospel of trust and rescue, through laments that wrestle with hidden enemies, doubt, and delay. Along the way it spotlights wonder at creation, the tension between corrupt voices and solid words, and the question of who can stand in God’s presence. Musically it’s a multi-genre anthology: indie folk, cinematic rock, gospel soul, neo-soul, dark pop, punk-leaning grit and modern hymn—all under The Shaken Remnant’s banner, keeping the lyrics scripture-faithful but written to live as real songs.

Who Can Live Here | Psalm 15

"My Beautiful Miracles" is a song born from resilience and truth. It reflects the healing power of music and the strength found in moments of vulnerability. Every lyric is a testament to survival, transformation, and the beauty of miracles that emerge even in the darkest times. Through soulful vocals and emotionally charged storytelling, Belle J invites listeners to connect deeply, reminding them that hope and light are always possible.

This track is not just music it’s advocacy, art, and empowerment woven together. It speaks to those who have felt silenced, offering a voice of courage and affirmation.
All rights reserved: Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or adaptation of this work is prohibited without prior written consent.
#SoundCloud
#NewMusic
#SoundCloudMusic
#SoundCloudfinds
#BelleJ
#UnsignedArtist
#IndieArtist
#MusicProducer
#HealingMusic
#StudioSession
#GoodMusic
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My Beautiful Miracles

My Beautiful Miracles.

Skid Row is one of the hardest lyrics I’ve ever written, because the story affected me so deeply. 

Skid Row is a haunting portrait of life at society’s edge. After watching a documentary about the area, it felt like a punch to the heart—tears rose at the thought that these could be our own children, our friends, or our family members. In Skid Row, people struggle with addiction, homelessness, and a constant fight for survival. Yet behind every broken moment lies a human story: lost dreams, fragile hope, and a longing for dignity. The song reflects this harsh reality with empathy, reminding us that no one chooses this life, and all deserve compassion and understanding.


LYRIC

Intro

⸻

Verse
The streets don’t sleep, they bite back twice,
Cold as steel, no paradise.
I’ve seen kings fall from their throne,
Down here, you make it on your own.

Verse

Smoke in my lungs, no place to hide,
Dreams get sold on the lower side.
You learn to crawl before you fight,
Another scar for every night.

⸻

Pre-Chorus 

The city hums, the sirens moan,
Another lost soul calls this home.

⸻

Chorus 

I’m living down on Skid Row,
Where the saints don’t dare to go.
Broken hearts and busted dreams,
Living fast, or so it seems.
Yeah, Skid Row — that’s all I know.

⸻

Verse 

The nights are long, the truth is cheap,
We trade our souls for a little sleep.
Another day, another scar,
No one cares who you really are.

⸻

Pre-Chorus

I’ve seen angels lose their grace,
And sinners take their place.

⸻

Chorus

I’m living down on Skid Row,
Where the saints don’t dare to go.
Broken hearts and busted dreams,
Living fast, or so it seems.
Yeah, Skid Row — that’s all I know.

⸻

Bridge

Can’t go back, can’t start again,
The city feeds on forgotten men.
But in the dark, I find my way,
Another dawn, another day.

⸻

Final Chorus

I’m living down on Skid Row,
Where the lost ones always go.
Trading pain for one more dream,
Nothing’s ever what it seems.
Yeah, Skid Row — that’s how I roll.

Outro

Skid Row

Bud Dub is a warm, vapor-soft chill-dub album built entirely on palindromes — in the titles, in the musical structures, and in the production design. Every track mirrors itself in some way: basslines that move outward then return inward, stereo patterns that flip left and right, chords that rise and fall in symmetrical arcs, and mid-track “hinge moments” where motifs reverse or fold back on themselves.
The result is a deeply relaxed, slow-burn dub experience that feels like drifting smoke loops in a quiet living room — warm sub-bass, soft skank guitars, spaced-out rimshots, vapor-lit pads, and analog haze. It’s immersive, hypnotic, and mathematically chilled, built for late-night unwind sessions and introspective creativity. The entire album loops seamlessly from the last track back to the first, completing the macro-palindrome.

Redder

Black Book is OBLIGÉ at their most theatrical, macabre, and mythic.
Each track resurrects an ancient, unsanitized fairy tale — the versions whispered before they were made safe — sung through the sharp, haunting clarity of a female soprano with operatic power (but not opera in style).

The album unfolds like a cursed midnight cabaret in a condemned theatre: crooked waltzes, ritual percussion, parlor piano, bowed bass, scraping strings, and ghostly backing vocals.
Every tale uses its own cultural “bones,” so the songs never repeat structure, yet the album remains cohesive in mood and world.

Between certain stories, instrumental interludes serve as stage shifts — the lights dim, the curtains breathe, the Black Book turns its own pages.

By the end, the singer discovers she herself is written into the final chapter.

This is OBLIGÉ’s darkest, most narrative-driven work:
a folklore requiem stitched with dread, beauty, and the cold breath of old stories.

BLIND LANTERN

Christmas on the county line. 🎄🔥

Two small towns, one long string of lights, bonfire cracklin’, red dirt boots and a whole lot of twang.

Wrote this for the folks who spend the holidays on back roads with friends, family, and whoever shows up by the fire. If you’ve ever two-stepped under a cold sky with a cheap drink in your hand, this one’s for you.

Let me know where you’re listenin’ from and if you’ve got your own “county line” Christmas spot. 🤠

Christmas on the County Line

[Verse 1]
Out past the fields where the fence lines meet  
There’s a gravel road off the old main street  
Both town names on the same green sign  
That’s where we throw down Christmas time  

[Pre-Chorus]
Half your town, half of mine  
All mixed up at the county line  

[Chorus]
It’s Christmas on the county line  
Two small towns, one long string of lights  
Bonfire cracklin’, your hand in mine  
Red dirt hummin’ to that old guitar  

We pass that bottle and we pass the time  
Whiskey carolin’ with that twang just right  
World’s sittin’ still, it ain’t a Silent Night  
Spendin’ Christmas on the county line  

[Verse 2]
Old man Bobbitt’s got his fiddle out  
Kids play tag in the smoke and shout  
Your little sister’s pourin’ hot chocolate cups  
Granny’s dog snatchin’ all the marshmallows up  

[Pre-Chorus]
Your hands on my shoulders when the band kicks in  
We spin ‘round in that firelight glow  
You say, “Best dang Christmas I’ve ever known”  
Just dirt-road joy in the fire we made  

[Chorus]
It’s Christmas on the county line  
Two small towns, one long string of lights  
Bonfire cracklin’, your hand in mine  
Red dirt hummin’ to that old guitar  

We pass that bottle and we pass the time  
Whistlin’ tunes to our “Holy Night”  
We’re the needle on this record tonight  
Spendin’ Christmas on the county line  

[Bridge]
Someday we might move to some big bright place  
High-rise windows and a faster pace  
But every year when December rolls back ’round  
We’ll hear that fire, feel that small-town sound  

So if you’re lost and lookin’ for a sign  
There’s room for you at the county line  
Follow that glow where the dust kicks up  
We’ve got a spot by the flames and a solo cup  

[Final Chorus]
It’s Christmas on the county line  
Two small towns, one long string of lights  
Bonfire cracklin’ on a chilly night  
Red dirt boots under a neon sky  

Hot toddy cozy, hearts full of cheer  
Nobody worried ’bout a closin’ time  
Yeah, peace comes easy tonight  
When it’s Christmas  
On the county line  

[Outro]
Just an old dirt road, a fire, and your hand in mine…  
I love this Christmas, yeah,  
Christmas, mmm-hmm,  
On the county line.


Christmas on the County Line

“Introspection beats projection—because owning your truth will always take you farther than blaming someone else.”

Introspection Beats Projection

Volant Records is a story-driven label and shared universe: cinematic concept albums, stutter-house, western sagas, haunted pop, and hymn-like instrumentals. Home to Jupiter Morrow, Avaline Ingels, Shadow Face, Buck Ramble, Choralith and more. All Worlds Reserved®.