[Verse 1]
A scent of panic on the air
A pulse of terror, pure and rare
You think your silence makes you safe
I feel the rhythm of your faith

[Chorus]
Running won't save you now
I can hear your frantic vow
A final prayer upon your brow
This city is my hunting ground

[Verse 2]
The shadows begin to weep
A promise that I mean to keep
Your fragile form is wearing thin
I feel the panic set within

[Chorus]
Running won't save you now
I can hear your frantic vow
A final prayer upon your brow
This city is my hunting ground

[Verse 3]
No more stalking in the dark
I see the embers of your spark
My shiny teeth are set and bare
A spectacle of your despair

[Verse 4]
Running won't save you now
I taste the failure on your brow
This game is done, I make my bow

[Chorus]
Running won't save you now
I can hear your frantic vow
A final prayer upon your brow
This city is my hunting ground

Apex

AIBRY drags you through the cathedral ruins with Choir of Broken Mouths — a 17-track descent into trapmetal and deathcore chaos. Spine-snapping drops, guttural choirs, ritual ambience, and the kind of distortion that feels like it’s tearing through your ribs.

This isn’t background music. It’s a possession.
It Wants Out. It Became Me. It leaves you with No Pulse.

Listen if you’re ready to bleed.

Hypocritical

Methods of Mayhem