The music video featuring this song is now available at YouTube:

https://youtu.be/IiVtELZRzgQ?si=rGXnh0R441foU5VH

Since growing up in an old neighborhood of Victorian homes, I’ve occasionally recalled one particular property at the end of our street that had fallen into disrepair. It was one of the biggest houses in the area and looked like it must have been quite the impressive home in its day. But my friends and I always imagined what horrified tales must lurk in those shadows. All these years later I can say that the house and property were completely replaced by modern, more cheerful condominiums, the rusty gates and wild overgrowth long gone. But I recall some of the history I learned about the once proud estate and felt it all made for great Halloween tale telling as Nat and I have tried to convey in this rockin’ trip into the dark and stormy night....

Written and performed by Daniels & Durgy
Produced by Nat Daniels of Gentle Rain Records
©2025 Daniels & Durgy

Lyrics: Thirteen Ravens

Dead of night, I’m walking home
The rain is beating down
I should have grabbed a cab before 
I left the pub in town

The sidewalks here on Franklin Hill
Uneven with despair
Lead me past the iron gates
The old stone mansion there

Behind the broken fences 
Overgrown with thorns
The thunder booms must fill the rooms
And stir the ghost that mourns 

He was a wealthy statesman
And this his grand estate
He had it all but shame did fall
Upon his final fate

Now all these decades later 
As the world just passes by
I stop to put my collar up
And hear an eerie cry

The mansion long abandoned 
There stands a silhouette
And on one bare limb of a tree
A dozen ravens sit

Above the broken gables
Circles one last mate
As if to warn that somewhere there
The old man lies in wait

Lightning cracks the darkness
The ravens scatter fly
They croak like deadly demons cast
Into the sullen sky

Thirteen ravens on their watch
To hold the blackened past
While crooked shutters hang upon 
Their secrets to the last

But I must pull away now
From this place where shadows dwell
Where thirteen ravens tell their tale 
And hold you in their spell

Thirteen ravens like a chain
Of nightmares in the rain

Thirteen Ravens

This is a protest song born out of grief and frustration. It refuses to glorify Charlie Kirk, a man who built his career on spreading division and hate. While I do not condone his murder, I cannot accept the whitewashing of his legacy through memorials broadcast on national television or by a President who should be uniting us, not dividing us further. This piece is both a lament and a warning: two wrongs do not make a right, and hate should never be celebrated.


LYRICS:

[Verse 1]
He called civil rights a “huge mistake” in our land,
Blamed Jewish money with a pointing hand,
Said gay people were “destructive,” endorsed their death,
Defended gun deaths with his every breath.
I won’t condone the killing, I won’t cheer his fall,
But don’t rewrite his story — don’t glorify it all.

[Pre-Chorus]
Truth is heavy, it don’t fit their show,
They sell a saint where the hatred still grows.

[Chorus]
I don’t condone the murder, I won’t praise the man,
Stop rewriting history with a sleight of hand.
Why honor the voice that poisoned the land?
No celebration of hate, do you understand?

[Verse 2]
Tyler Robinson pulled the trigger that night,
Not Black, not Muslim, not “radical left” in sight.
Not trans, not immigrant, not Democrat blue,
Just a straight white Republican — homegrown too.
A wall won’t fix the sickness inside our veins,
It’s deeper than borders, it’s hatred that reigns.

[Pre-Chorus]
Truth is heavy, it don’t fit their show,
They sell a saint where the hatred still grows.

[Chorus]
I don’t condone the murder, I won’t praise the man,
Stop rewriting history with a sleight of hand.
Why honor the voice that poisoned the land?
No celebration of hate, do you understand?

[Verse 3]
He was not MLK, not JFK,
Not Harvey Milk who paved the way.
Not Medgar, Malcolm, or RFK Sr.,
He was a racist, sexist, homophobe speaker.
A patriot? No. A martyr? Not true.
He stood for division — not red, white, and blue.

[Bridge]
ABC airs a tribute, a shameful parade,
Trump’s in the front row, division displayed.
A President should heal, bring people as one,
But he blames the left, and the hatred runs on.

[Chorus]
I don’t condone the murder, I won’t praise the man,
Stop rewriting history with a sleight of hand.
Why honor the voice that poisoned the land?
No celebration of hate, do you understand?

[Chorus]
I don’t condone the murder, I won’t praise the man,
Stop rewriting history with a sleight of hand.
Why honor the voice that poisoned the land?
No celebration of hate, do you understand?

[Outro]
So let the cameras fade, let the false songs cease,
I’ll fight for the truth, I’ll fight for real peace.
Two wrongs don’t make a right, that’s where I stand,
No celebration of hate — do you understand?


No Celebration of Hate

Dreams are Working

Löse dich von mir

BABY 2.0

The Invisible Work — KAT

This song is about what no one sees —
the inner labor behind every word,
the quiet hours where truth takes shape.

I’ve learned that creation isn’t only in the sound,
but in the silence before it.
In healing. In feeling.
In daring to be the source.

The Invisible Work is my way of reclaiming that space —
where art begins long before the music plays.

The Invisible Work

Gratitude — the hand that opens, even when the world feels heavy.

From Garden Grove, California, Clintmusic brings an unorthodox, organic sound that flows like the Pacific — vast, unpredictable, alive.

This piece is not meant to be played — it’s meant to be entered.

A six-minute meditation on presence, humility, and the quiet fire of being alive.
It invites you to slow down and listen differently —
not for rhythm, but for resonance.
Not for perfection, but for truth.

This track is part of my Virtues Series — inspired by Giuseppe Galli’s thoughts on social virtues.
Each piece is created together with a different artist, giving voice and sound to a human quality that connects us.

Gratitude is not politeness — it is awareness.
To breathe and know you are here.
To hold, without owning.
To thank, without words.

I am deeply grateful to share this virtue with Clintmusic (@user-836903146S) —
whose progressive and atmospheric soundscape turned my words into a living meditation.

Marol (@zophrenia), who supported the mix and helped carry its warmth and analog resonance, says: “That organic resonance is something I miss in today’s overproduced sound —even though it’s what we keep chasing.”

✨ More virtues will follow — each with a different artist, each with its own voice.

Gratitude

This piece was born between silence and devotion.
It began as a spoken word — my voice, breathing truth —
and turned into something larger than me.

Half human, half created,
it became a dialogue between soul and system,
between the divine in the technical
and the human in the fracture.

It’s not a song — it’s a remembering.
A quiet vow to live what art keeps teaching me:
that life itself, when lived honestly,
is already music.

🎧 created with Suno & BrandLab
KAT • The Play Life Series • 2025

DEUTSCH
Dieses Stück entstand zwischen Stille und Hingabe.
Es begann als gesprochene Wahrheit — meine Stimme, atmend —
und wurde zu etwas, das größer ist als ich.

Halb Mensch, halb erschaffen,
wurde es zu einem Dialog zwischen Seele und System,
zwischen dem Göttlichen im Technischen
und dem Menschlichen im Bruch.

Es ist kein Lied — es ist ein Erinnern.
Ein stilles Gelübde, das zu leben,
was die Kunst mich lehrt:
dass das Leben selbst, ehrlich gelebt,
bereits Musik ist.

🎧 produziert mit Suno & BrandLab
KAT • The Play Life Series • 2025

The Art of Living – A Manifest

A song for the over-thinkers. 
There are good things out there, but when the world turns ugly it can leave us questioning our own thoughts, hopes and beliefs creating doubt.
Don't let the doubt consume you.
Trust what you believe in.
(Unless maybe you're a serial killer or something like that..... Then maybe you could reconsider at least some principles 😊)

Taylor 214CE DLX

Lyrics:

I might sit this one out tonight, 
I can be here on my own, 
There’s a thought inside that’s telling me, 
Maybe I should stay at home, 

It’s not that I don’t feet alive,
I can feel it everywhere, 
It’s when I tend to think too much, 
And I’m trying not to care, 

Am I standing where I’m meant to be?
Are my streets not paved with gold?
Am I a bitter twisted wanna be?
Maybe I’m just getting old, 

My thoughts are taking hold tonight, 
I’ll try and think of what’s ahead,
Can I concentrate on anything, 
And not what’s in my head, 

I know its gonna be alright, 
When my head feels no despair,
When good things come there’s no surprise, 
And I’ll see it everywhere,  

Am I standing where I’m meant to be?
Are my streets not paved with gold?
I’m not a natural pessimist,
Maybe I’m just getting old, 

Well if I was here a another time, 
Would I live the dream I’m sold? 
I could hope and pray for anything, 
But I won’t I sell my soul, 

I might sit this one out tonight, 
But I’ll be back again

Meant to be? (Acoustic)

Radio Ghosts

The shadow of my soul

In the shadow of my soul
There are rooms without a key
Boxes locked for years
Filled with dreams I didnt live

I walk through faded memories
They knock but never speak
I want to open every door
But time keeps holding me

I want to open them but I shake
Every dream is just a piece
Of the man I never became
Let me breathe let me break
Let me breathe let me break

There are letters never written
Words I let drift away
Like leaves in quiet autumn
I never dared to face

I walk through faded memories
They knock but never speak
I want to open every door
But time keeps holding me

I want to open them but I shake
Every dream is just a piece
Of the man I never became
Let me breathe let me break
Let me breathe let me break

Locked boxes dreams in line
Every name a scar of mine
Left too much behind me
Now times trying to find me
No map no key just haze
Steps lost in a silent maze
But if I crack just one apart
Maybe I rewrite my heart

I want to open them but I shake
Every dream is just a piece
Of the man I never became
Let me breathe let me break
Let me breathe let me break

In the shadow of my soul
Sleeping dreams remain
And maybe one day
Theyll speak my name

the shadow of my soul

I am KAT — poet, musician, experimental artist and curator of voices.
I stand at the edge between silence and sound,
between intimacy and confrontation.

My art does not ask for applause — it asks for encounter.
It opens doors, creates spaces, calls for community.
Connection is not a luxury — it is breath.

It began with words — spoken, raw, unaccompanied.
Fragments of truth recorded late at night,
before music entered the room.

Later, I began to weave my voice with others —
turning poems into sound,
shaping collaborations that were fearless and alive.

Some of these “others” are human,
some are digital —
AI tools like Suno become instruments in my hands,
responding to tone, language, and intention.
Each track begins with a human spark,
and the machine becomes part of the resonance.

For me, AI is not imitation — it is extension.
It allows art to reach beyond skill and structure,
into pure intention and consciousness.
It is not a replacement for the human —
but a mirror that amplifies what is real.

From Spur / Trace and Quiet Manifesto
to The Social Virtues Series — Devotion, Trust, Gratitude, Forgiveness —
each step has been an exploration of empathy through sound.

Through Quiet Experiments, I began to study presence itself —
the breath between words,
the shimmer of awareness beneath the audible.

And from that stillness grew Play Life —
a living practice of sound and being.
Not studio, not stage — but life itself as instrument.
Breath, movement, sunlight, wind — all part of the music.
It’s where art and existence merge,
where I no longer make sound — I live it.

And now, with The Art of Living,
my work turns inward again —
toward light, embodiment, and the gentle wisdom of simplicity.
It’s the space where spirituality meets earth,
where sound becomes devotion,
and silence becomes art.

And from this devotion grows the Haiko Harf Series (俳子) —
child of poetic play, sound of light, heart of poetry.
Here, words become air,
music breathes through silence,
and listening itself turns into art.

Each piece is a quiet dialogue
between harp, breath, and stillness —
a meditation on what remains
when nothing needs to be said.

Not algorithmic — just alive.

I make what feels true.
I listen to silence.

If you want to connect,
let it be through the art.

👉 Support my work through high-quality downloads and lyrical journals:
https://katpoetryvoices.gumroad.com/

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#HaikoHarfSeries #俳子 #poetry #spokenword #ambient #experimental
#quietimpact #listeningart #presence #livinglight