The Grimm Gospel

Ashes In The Crooked Fields

Bells in the mist call no one home,
Dreams choke in thorns over brittle stone.

We built our beds in broken streets,
Wove lullabies from worn-out screens.
Glass castles, blinking red and blue,
We drank the spell and never knew.

Sleeping plague, silent crown,
Dreamers lay their bodies down.
Sleeping plague, hollow kings,
Wake for nothing, die for dreams.

A hundred years of silent scrolls,
Wires grow through sleeping souls.
A kiss of fear, a kiss of screens,
Not one wakes up — not even screams.

Sleeping plague, silent crown,
Dreamers lay their bodies down.
Sleeping plague, hollow kings,
Wake for nothing, die for dreams.

No fire, no sword, no prayer will sever,
The web we spin to sleep forever.

Sleeping plague, silent crown,
Dreamers lay their bodies down.
Sleeping plague, hollow kings,
Wake for nothing, die for dreams.

Sleep... Sleep... Sleep...

Sleeping Plague

Cracks in the ground where the poppies grow,
Ash in the mouth where the sweet words go.

Built my house from broken bones,
Fed my fire with prayers and stones.
Took the strays the world threw out,
Taught ‘em hunger, taught ‘em doubt.

Iron teeth, iron tongue,
Better a bitter end than none.
Iron hands, iron gate,
Eat the lies before it’s too late.

Children come with hollow eyes,
Begging for the sweetest lies.
Better they fear my smoke and scar,
Than beg for crumbs from dying stars.

Iron teeth, iron tongue,
Better a bitter end than none.
Iron hands, iron gate,
Eat the lies before it’s too late.

I never asked for thanks or prayers,
I never wove them golden snares.
Only sharpened what they’d need —
A mouth for blood, a soul for seed.

Iron teeth, iron tongue,
Better a bitter end than none.
Iron hands, iron gate,
Eat the lies before it’s too late.

Better a bitter end than none...

Iron Teeth

Mother with teeth like roots,
Sister of frost-bitten fruit,
They dressed her in red so she'd bleed bright—
She wore it to bait the night.

No bread in the basket,
No wine in the jug,
Only salt on my tongue and a tooth in my glove.
I walked that path without a prayer—
Let the trees stare.

Wolfsister, blood in the snow,
Sharp as the truth they don’t want you to know.
Wolfsister, teeth in the dark,
Bite like the flame they forgot in your heart.

He came sniffing like they all do—
Soft hands, sharp lies,
The kind that chew.
But I had a secret under my skin:
A hunger born of deeper sin.

Wolfsister, blood in the snow,
Sharp as the truth they don’t want you to know.
Wolfsister, teeth in the dark,
Bite like the flame they forgot in your heart.

Nails split, breath thick,
My bones forgot the girl-trick.
I howled once—it cracked the sky,
And I tore out the part that knew how to cry.

Wolfsister, blood in the snow,
Sharp as the truth they don’t want you to know.
Wolfsister, teeth in the dark,
Bite like the flame they forgot in your heart.

Wolfsister

We wore the nettle shirts
They burned into our skin
No stars above the forest
Just feathers soaked in sin
She tried to call us backwards
With thread and silent prayer
But we were never waiting
We never asked to care

Six ravens
Black as bone—
We fly slow.
We don’t go home.
Six voices—
One vow to keep.
No forgiveness.
No sleep.

The youngest broke his wing
To save a dying doe
The eldest cracked his beak
To speak what none could know
But kindness made us brittle
And freedom wore too thin
We kept the wings she hated
We chose the fire within

Six shadows
On burning stone—
We see all.
We fly alone.
Six feathers—
Ink and flame.
No forgiveness.
Only name.

She gave us thread and hope
We gave her back a storm
Her prayers were never truth
Just masks she tried to warm
We are what she created
No spell can pull us down
We fly with dusk in mouth
We wear her like a crown

She lit the sky with smoke
To end the curse she gave
But we were past redemption
Too far for her to save
No thread could catch our shape
No name could draw us home
We hunt without a master
Our hearts are black as bone

Six echoes
From broken skies—
We strike slow.
We close our eyes.
Six brothers—
No breath, no bleed.
No redemption.
Only need.

Six Ravens

They laid me down with braided hair,
gold dust on my brow.
A crown of sleep, a bed of stone—
no breath, no vow, no sound.
They sang of grace in rusted hymns,
and praised the prince too late.
But I was never dreaming.
I was listening.
I was awake.

Find them, bind them,
Nail their names into their teeth.
Wrap them in the roots they gave me,
Drag them down beneath.
Wake me with a blade’s confession—
Split the bed I died inside.
I am thornblood. I remember.
And I do not close my eyes.

They touched my lips with rose and ash,
called it mercy, called it grace.
But grace is just a velvet mask
they pull across your face.
They stitched me shut in bridal white,
with rings I didn’t choose—
And I bled thorns through the satin
’til the silk turned bruise.

Find them, bind them,
Nail their names into their teeth.
Wrap them in the roots they gave me,
Drag them down beneath.
Wake me with a blade’s confession—
Split the bed I died inside.
I am thornblood. I remember.
And I do not close my eyes.

Not cursed. Not chosen.
Not kissed into light.
I was planted like a secret—
Now I bloom with bite.
Their names still bloom in my mouth
like nettle, like nightshade.
And I will wear no veil.
Only rust.
Only flame.

So let the bells toll backward,
let the chapel crack its spine.
Let the forest speak in silence—
it remembers what is mine.
There is no prince, no rescue.
No gentle hand to take.
Just me, and thorn, and fire.
And the promise I will break.

Find them, bind them,
Nail their names into their teeth.
Wrap them in the roots they gave me,
Drag them down beneath.
Wake me with a blade’s confession—
Split the bed I died inside.
I am thornblood. I remember.
And I do not close my eyes.

Thornblood

They say he forged a horseshoe
In the mouth of hell itself
Tricked the devil with a handshake
Then hammered out his wealth
But clever men make cursed things
And cursed men forge alone
Now everything he builds
Turns black
Turns dust
Turns bone

Ashmaker, hands of flame—
Strikes the iron, speaks no name
He melts the gold, he burns the frame—
Ashmaker leaves no claim.

Ashmaker leaves no claim.
Ashmaker leaves no claim.
Yeah, Ashmaker leaves no claim.

He kissed a girl from cedar dust
She smelled of salt and fire
He carved her name in ironwood
But the letters caught like wire
Now her voice is smoke inside him
Every vow a brand
She left with skin and shadow
He stayed
With ash
And hand

Ashmaker, hammer slow—
Coals for blood and breath below
Love can't live where fire won't go—
Ashmaker walks alone.

Ashmaker walks alone.
Ashmaker walks alone.
Oh, Ashmaker walks alone.

They bring him broken clocks and knives
And beg him for repair
But even time ignites for him
And steel just sings despair
He swore he’d never call it curse
But names don’t mean a thing
When all you touch
Is funeral dust
And ashes dressed as kings

He built a cradle once from oak
And watched it drown in cinders
A churchbell melted in his palm
Before he heard it ring
He tried to forge a silence
But silence came too late
The devil smiled
The fire bowed
The hammer blessed his fate

Ashmaker, forge and grave—
Heat that takes what mercy gave
He lays no claim, he digs no cave—
Ashmaker is the flame.

Ashmaker is the flame.
Ashmaker is the flame.
Oh, Ashmaker is the flame.

Ashmaker

I dropped them slow, like little lies
Each crumb a shape of home
But I could feel the sky lean in
The trees begin to moan
They watched us walk away too far
Too deep to change our minds
And when the birds began to stir
We left no trail behind

We left no trail behind
We left no trail behind
Oh, We left no trail behind

Feed the crows, feed the crows
They know the way you chose
They’ll eat the road, they’ll eat the light
And leave you with the bones

She held my hand like kindling
Like she knew the end was fire
We slept on roots, we spoke in twigs
And dreamed of bread and wire
But I saw feathers in the dusk
And hunger in the trees
The forest wasn’t keeping us
It taught the crows to feed

It taught the crows to feed
It taught the crows to feed
Oh, It taught the crows to feed
Feed the crows, feed the crows
They circle what you owe
They do not mourn, they do not wait
They take it nice and slow

So now I walk with black-winged ghosts
The path a line of smoke
My sister somewhere deeper still
The woods her wedding cloak
And me, I lay the final piece
Where no one dares to go
A final crumb, a quiet gift—
An altar for the crows

An altar for the crows
An altar for the crows
Oh, An altar for the crows

Feed The Crows

I saw you first beneath the tree,
Your eyes were coins, your tongue a spark
You said the path would make me king
If I just cut my name into the bark
So I did it — blade and breath and blood
And waited for the dawn to rise
But what arrived was you again
With teeth too white, and too human eyes

Cut deep, boy, deeper still
Where sap runs hot and time stands still
They’ll call you fox before they know
How far your claws are meant to go

You led me past the rusted gates
Where no one sings and crows don’t lie
I stole the bird, just like you asked
It screamed in tongues that cracked the sky
The feathers fused into my arms
My mouth forgot the prince it fed
I kissed a mirror once last night
It looked at me and howled instead

Run fast, boy, lose your skin
Let hunger teach you where to begin
They’ll call you thief, they’ll call you son
But you and I — we are the one

The king is gone. The throne is bone.
The castle caved in dust and stone
The road was never pointing back
And roots have made my name their own
You said I’d rule, and maybe I do—
In fur and ash, with breath like coal
I see your shadow when I sleep
And wake to find I have no soul
I kept your scent, it lingers still
Between my ribs, behind my will
No prayer unwinds what’s tied in bone
You taught me how to die alone

Cut deep, boy, deeper still
Where sap runs hot and time stands still
You wear the fur, you sing the tone
You speak the curse — you walk alone

Foxfather

I drank the blood when the mother wept
When her hands forgot their grace
I felt the boy when the shovel bit
And the ground took in his face
I wrapped around his rib and hair
And curled beneath his tongue
I’ve never seen the sun myself
But I remember every one
I remember every one
I remember every one

Under every grave, a song remains
Not sung with lips, but tooth and veins
We stretched beneath your quiet screams
And now we speak through haunted green

The fruit she ate was sweet with blame
The bones she tossed were mine
He sang again through beak and flame
And fed her baked in brine
They danced around the stump they made
And called it mercy’s grace
But I could feel his ashes call
And coil behind her face

Under every grave, a song remains
Not sung with lips, but tooth and veins
We stretched beneath your quiet screams
And now we speak through haunted green

I do not speak like you above
I do not cry or pray or move
But every lie you bury here
Becomes the song the branches prove

And he sings:
"The wind it knows, the soil it keeps
The blood of sons the silence eats
My mother, she killed me
My father, he ate me
The roots remember every name—
And ghosts, they rise from the flame"

So carve your name in softer bark
And feed your kin with care
But know the ground will always keep
The shape of what you dare
He flies again, the child you lost
With feathers dipped in red
And every time you pass this tree
You feed what’s in its bed
You feed what’s in its bed
You feed what’s in its bed

Juniperoot

I laid my shadow in the creek
It crawled out slick, began to speak
Said, “You’ve burned more names than graves could hold”
Then laughed and coughed up marigolds
The cactus bowed its blistered spine
The sky turned brass and tasted brine
A sunbeam slithered down my throat
And sang in tongues my lies once wrote

Don’t let the sun steal my sins
They’re carved in wax and wire and skin
Let the heat forget the shape I wore
Let the wind rewrite the metaphor

I kissed a scar that bled like rain
I lapped it up to taste my pain
Fallen men sang a hymn of rust
While angels coughed in desert dust
The sheriff sold his badge for skin
The priest just drew his sermons thin
The air was full with names unsaid
And every cactus bloomed with dread

Don’t let the sun steal my sins
It don’t know where the truth begins
I lit the sky with phantom flame
And laughed when echoes said my name

I dreamed in noise, in buzz and bloom
I found my guilt in motel rooms
The road rewinds where I once fell
The sun don’t judge — it just excels

My hat grew horns, my boots turned glass
I danced with gods of smoke and brass
The stars all blinked in Morse and moaned
“You’re not alone, but you’re unknown”
The morning cracked my crooked grin
I smiled like mirrors stitched in skin
And left my voice in ash and gin
Where silence ends and lies begin

Don’t let the sun steal my sins
They’re tuned to dusk and locked within
Let me blur, let me descend
I’ll haunt the edge and never mend

Don’t Let The Sun Steal My Sins

There’s a coastline stitched in whisper-thread,
Where brackish reeds make up the dead.
The gulls all scream in cursive flight,
Their wings inscribe the failing light—
And silence nests where prayers once bled.

There’s a dock drowned under silt and bone,
A mastless ship that forever sails alone.
Its hull is lined with lovers' oaths,
Its anchor snagged in wedding clothes—
No compass left to point or guide you home.

The tide forgets your name,
The wind erases maps.
We rose once, high and wild—
Now drift where time collapse.
The stars have turned their backs,
The lanterns lost their flame.
Come and see. Come and see.
No one ever leaves the same.

In lowland hollows, warm and deep,
A cradle rocks a child to sleep.
The mother’s teeth are sharp as grief,
She sings beneath the coral reef—
Her lullaby a vow to keep.

I wandered past the old salt mill,
And met a girl so strange and still.
She wore no name, just storm for eyes—
I spoke of gold, she spoke of lies.
She said, “You’ll never leave this hill.”

No silver coins, no bloodied blade,
Could part the night from what it made.
I kissed her once and felt the sea
Pour down my throat, unceasingly.
She sang, “You’re here with me, with me...”
I said, Come with me, Come and see

Lay dimes upon the drowned,
A toll to pass the shoal.
No bell will chime for you—
No ledger names your soul.
Forget your father's voice son,
He never made you tough.
Forget your mother’s hymn boy.
She never showed you love.
Go to sleep now, little bastard.
You won’t feel the sinking.
You won’t fight the drowning.
You won’t fight the drowning.

The Bone Jar Hymn

Tech enthusiast. Lifelong songwriter. I use AI to make music.

Band Lineup:
The Grimm Gospel - Gothic Folk, Psychedelic Folk
Winter Kites - Electro-Indie, Synth, Down Tempo
Minor Ritual - Indie, Post Rock
Field Of Ashes - Ambient Post Rock
Zach Rye Band - Folk & Singer Songwriter
The Velvetines - 70's Psychedelic Rock 
Ryder Lux - Pop & Tropical House
James Morrisoni - Classic Rock
The Quiet Verse - Lo-Fi Hip Hop, Soul & Rap
The Weeping King - Soulful Rock, Alternative Rock
Two Tribes Theory - Rap, Reggae, Afrobeat Fusion
Knox County Ghost - Outlaw Country

I’ve been writing and performing music since my younger days, though life took me on a 20-year journey through the tech world. Songwriting has always been my passion—a way to capture emotions, stories, and moments. Now, with the help of AI, I’m turning my lyrics into the music I love to listen to. 

Don't like AI music? That's all good, I am not trying to make money or take the shine from awesome live artists, I just like to write the stories I like to hear.

#MelodicEthereal #Reggae #HipHop #Country #70s #SingerSongwriter #Pop #Soul #Folk #Electronic #Melodic

The Grimm Gospel

MyKingFalls Collective