“Name This Hunger” is a quiet, human anthem about learning meaning through kindness. A warm baritone tells the story with fingerpicked acoustic guitar, pump-organ undertones, brushed snare, and bowed metal swells. The imagery is tactile—bowl, spoon, bridge, river—grounding a chorus built to be sung together. For night drives, small rooms, and anyone who needs a gentle word that still carries weight.

Name This Hunger

Авторский проект.слова: @ mark.bismark777 © t.me/supermuzon777
Не для коммерческого использования.«Я солдат» — авторская регги-композиция в стиле roots & dub, написанная как лирический монолог из глубины войны. Это не гимн, не обвинение и не пропаганда. Это — голос того, кого забыли назвать по имени: недоношенного сына войны, говорящего с матерью сквозь дым, страх и тишину после выстрелов. 🔹 Вокал
: низкий, бархатистый мужской баритон🔹 Стиль: ме
дленный roots reggae (74 BPM), аналоговый бас, offbeat-гитара, лёгкие даб-эффекты🔹 Текст: оригинальный, авторский🔹 Произведено с помощью Suno AI (вокал и инструментал), но выстрадано — по-человечески 🌙 Слушайте ночью. С закрытыми глазами. Для тех, кто верит: музыка — последнее убежище правды. Если трек задел за живое — поделитесь им с тем, кто помнит, но молчит.Никакой пропаганды. Только боль, правда и тёплый бас под гитару в стиле roots reggae с лёгким даб-эхом.   Текст и стиль — авторские

Я солдат… (версия 05)

Я солдат… (версия 06)

Я солдат… (версия 07)

Я солдат… (версия 08)

Я солдат… (версия 10)

A raw work-song for two very different brothers who carry the same load. Night-shift scenes, dock grit, bus-stop mercy, and a vow that doesn’t loosen. Minimal words, heavy truth, built to be shouted back.

Towline

A fearless, feel-good anthem about spending the day while you’ve got it—no delays, no “later.” Warm baritone lead over punchy drums, handclaps, and a lift-off chorus you can shout with friends. Scenes of quitting the grind, dancing in the aisle, boarding a dawn flight, and choosing presence over postponement. Built for windows-down drives, sunrise runs, and crowd sing-alongs.

Not Saving the Good Stuff

A slow-burn piano ballad that grows into a soaring choir moment. Midnight pacing turns into a strength routine for the heart—setting down what harms and choosing what heals. Forgiveness is framed as form, breath, and reps. The bridge drops to solo keys as a carved stone slips into the river, then everything rises: drums, strings, voices, and a final vow. Empty hands weigh less; the future gets lighter with every release. Hook: “It’s heavy, this mercy I choose.”

Mercy I Choose

A soulful, defiant ballad where grief turns to voice. Warm baritone over piano, organ, and stomping floorboards, swelling into a final-chorus choir. Smoke, soot, and small-room imagery meet a cathartic hook: “Even ashes learn to sing.” Built for candlelit theaters, late drives, and big crowd sing-backs; intimate verses, chest-open chorus, and a last lift that blooms.

Ashes Learn to Sing

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.

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