“From silence, fire—
From dust, divine—
Unraveling the thread,
No beginning, no time.”

Hymns for the Dead and Divine

Brahma

“Endless time, spinning slow… shadows stretch where memories go. A whisper fades, but never dies—etched in the stars, written in the sky.”

perpetuity

“Crying in the hollow, drifting through the blue… the sax weeps lonely, like I used to do. Notes bend, hearts break, drowning in the sound… lost in the echoes, but never found.”

Sad Sax Song

“Buried in time, lost in the dust—bones of the past, dead in the rust. Echoes still linger, but the chains won’t break… I’m sinking slow where the iron decays.”

Dead in the Rust

“Kicking up dust, memories won’t fade—old dirt road calling me back again. Lost in the rearview, but I still hear it whisper… ain’t never really gone, just buried in the clay.”

DIRT ROAD

“No will, no way—just the tide pulling me under. Voices echo, but I can’t tell if they’re mine. Drift, dissolve, disappear… maybe that was the plan all along.”

No Will

“Echoes in the canopy, whispers in the roots—something ancient stirs beneath the leaves. The forest breathes, and you are part of its rhythm. Step carefully, listen closely… the trees remember.”

Forest Instrumental

“You’ve wandered this far—through echoes, through shadows, through the unraveling of belief. Now listen. The hymns are calling. The dead remember. The divine waits. Step through the veil.”
⸻
And now, Soul Pocket Song begins the descent…

Soul Pocket Song

[CHORUS]
“Brave soul,” says the radio
“Beauty,” says the radio
“It had to be like this,” says the radio
“Difficult,” says the radio
“Now you’re 44 years old?” says the radio
“That’s right. 44 years old,” says the radio

[Verse 1]
It’s going to hurt
You know this
So you drink tea in the morning instead
of an entire carafe of coffee
Like a vampire, your skin cells burn
on their first sip of the sun
The ringing taste of green tea or whatever
the fuck kind of tea this is

[Verse 2]
Describe to me in detail this so-called purification ritual
I can’t
I’ve never done it before
My cells are exploding into a wasting lament
This is the last time you will ever write
yourself through this
On the other side of this swamp of dark water, a plane will crash
The lone survivor will speak on the radio
as you drive down Highway 27

[BRIDGE]
In the middle of Florida in the middle of the night after you
step off the plane you see the swamps morph
into the mountains of your childhood
They raise their heads like giants
The Sierras stare; do not go there

[CHORUS]
“Brave soul,” says the radio
“Beauty,” says the radio
“It had to be like this,” says the radio
“Difficult,” says the radio
“Now you’re 44 years old?” says the radio
“That’s right. 44 years old,” says the radio

Continue to drive through hornets and testicular small towns
Some flags raised
Some flags down
The god of the underworld has let you go from his hand
into the empire Floridian
He says you have a pure heart
so pure he cannot destroy it
Some people look pure but they are not

He says he cannot see you destroy yourself so he has let you go
and he will protect you with his anger and melancholy

It will hurt
You know this
It will hurt
You know this

[GUITAR SOLO]

All the substances have got to go
Substances don’t flow from your body
They leave with the violence
of an exorcism
Spicer says once a ghost leaves your body
it never returns

“Horrendous,” your sister texts
“I’ve been vomiting all night,” she texts
“Maybe it will be a Christmas baby,” you say
Something with no substance surrounds you

It will hurt
You know this

This Is Going To Hurt

“Still Stay” is a quiet confession about the invisible endings that happen long before people leave. It’s the sound of a man whispering through the walls of a house he built but no longer feels at home in. Recorded in one take with a single microphone, every breath and silence is intentional—no polish, no redemption arc, just truth. The song explores love, identity erosion, and the ache of staying too long for the sake of comfort.

Still Stay

CYBER CHORD writes songs the way a porch light holds a night: small, steady, and impossible to ignore. I work with AI as a true co-writer, then carve the lyric by hand and shape the track in Suno. The sound leans bare and human—country roots in the soil, a little rock grain in the teeth, and a faith-lit lift that chooses hope without preaching.

These are ordinary-room hymns: rings hidden in cotton, receipt-tape strings, a dress behind rain glass, a sink that cools while you find the words. Silence is an instrument here; sometimes there’s a full bar where the house gets to breathe. If a line can’t survive a campfire and a cracked mug, it doesn’t make the song.

If you’re new, start with the heartbreakers. They don’t shout. They stay. I believe in the holiness of the everyday, and in the quiet bravery of saying the thing before “later” takes it away.

No paid promo, no playlist buys, no cover-art pitches, no dance offers, no cold DMs. If it’s a pitch, the porch light’s off. If you’re a real listener, come in soft: pick one song, leave a genuine note (lyric or timestamp welcome), and hand it to one friend. That’s how this fire stays lit.

May your road stay open, your coffee stay warm, and your day be peaceful.

Music Studio, covering any genre, any kind of artist.

“Creator of City of Make-Believe – a spoken word dreamscape blending poetry, sound design, and cosmic ritual.”

John C. Sweet is a poet, musician, and sonic explorer who crafts immersive, atmospheric experiences through sound and spoken word. Blending haunting melodies with raw, introspective lyricism, his work walks the thin veil between reality and the unknown—where echoes of the past meet the pulse of the future.

From ethereal soundscapes to sludgy, hypnotic rhythms, John’s music is a fusion of industrial textures, post-rock grit, and spectral storytelling. His spoken word performances unravel themes of existential longing, cosmic wonder, and the fragile beauty of decay—pulling listeners into a world where myths whisper and the boundaries of time blur.

His latest project, Hymns for the Dead & Divine, is a journey through shadow and light, weaving dreamlike vocals with cinematic instrumentation, ritualistic chants, and ghostly transmissions from places unseen.

This is not just music. This is an invocation. A reckoning. A voyage into the spaces between.

🔹 Follow for new releases, experimental collaborations, and transmissions from the void. 🔹

New tracks tagged #DarkFolk,