[Lyrics]

Night sirens bloom over chalk-white streets,
headlines howl of the wolf that eats.
Whispers lengthen, pulses climb—
“apex killers,” “perfect crime.”
But fear is a costume, stitched to deceive;
pick your prey first, then make us believe.


Wait—time out. You’re “brave”… with training wheels?
Roaring at kittens for highlight reels.
“Predator”? Please—your preys are pre-picked;
you don’t fight risk—you spreadsheet it.



You map the exits, vet the marks,
hunt in daylight, flee the sharks.
Risk-adjusted savagery scored,
stat-padding violence the crowd adored.
Not rebels—clerks of terror’s store;
you bill the system, you don’t wage war.


Pitiful clown-hunters—painted fangs, paper crowns!
Barking at sparrows while the eagles bear down.
If bravery had options, you’d click “decline”;
all teeth on posters, no teeth on the line.



Söze on copy paper, myth in a frame,
mugshot lighting cancels the flame.
Steel takes your legend, number your name;
the silent empire now quiet and tame.
No more ghost—just inmate grey;
oblivion’s wardens file you away.


Bow to the bigger boot; you’re muscle no more.
You kneel to a louder violence than yours.
“Master of shadows”?—now mopping the floor.
Kaiser becomes a runner—somebody’s chore.



Leather and flags, but the lease says “tame,”
you strut in a sandbox policed by the same.
Taxes of terror, protection-as-fee—
a kiosk of crime with a corporate key.
Growling in suburbs the state assigned,
lapdogs of power—on payroll, aligned.


“Necessary evil”? Spare me the creed.
You cull the harmless, you never bleed.
You don’t break systems—you vend the fear;
you’re clerks of chaos with a licensed sneer.
If “order” is daddy, you’re sons on a leash;
your toughest bite is a memo to police.



What kind of “outlaw” won’t assault the throne?
Snarls at the powerless, leaves the engine alone.
If the world forced your hand—then break the machine;
or face it: you’re commerce, not rebel, not mean.

Stop renting safety inside the state—
stop cashing quiet, stop hedging fate.
Leave the cul-de-sac of counterfeit rage;
if you claim revolt, then open the cage.


No more pennies for your pantomime—
quit the small change, fight the prime.
Stand where the tyrant really sits,
or drop the mask and call it quits.

From the height of true evil, you’re dust on the breeze—
small-timers, blow-aways, footnotes that freeze.
Not wolves. Not rebels. Just parasites that speak.
The serial crime was hunting the weak.

The Serial — Crime of Hunting the Weak

i aint finna leave

Praise to the God the Supreme being, the King of The Universe. The King of King's the Lord of Lords. The almighty Creator and giver of Life, thank-you so so much for everything. Thank-you for your infinite, manifestation creation.

Praise to Master Yeshua, aka Jesus. What an amazing healer, to come down to earth and live in an earthly body with the remarkable healing, miracles and teachings that you gave to the planet.
To die for are sins, to conquer death and then to be resurrected.
To raise the dead, to heal the blind, the sick, to walk of water to name a few.

One of the greatest teachings to the planet was the sermon on the Mount, what an amazing, speech of wisdom to the Residents of planet Earth. 

I have taken some of the parables and then formulated it with other wisdom and knowledge that I thought was insightful.

Praise be to God and Jesus seated at the right hand of the Father. WE LOVE YOU BOTH, to Infinity and beyond.

Thank-you for the bible and your amazing teachings and miracles and knowledge passed down from the ages.



''Sermon of the Ages'' - Always rejoice 888

Praise to God, the Supreme being, the King of the Universe. The Source Creator of all things. We Love you so so much, Thank-you for are life's, experiences, lessons, gifts and beauty you have given and bestowed upon us :)

This track is called The Fountain of Youth as the passages quoted from the Bible: Who ever believes in me, rivers of water will flow, from within them...

Referring to never ending, everlasting life.

The instrumental was produced originally by a producer named, Bliss called Chasing Ghost's.

''The Fountain of Youth'' - Always Rejoice 888

[Lyrics]

“Step right up, folks, it’s that time of year,
the 208th Excrement Rain of Cheer.
Last year the prudes shut it all down—
muttered ‘cholera’ and ‘sickening town’.
But the Heritage Club stood proud and tall,
crying, ‘Two hundred years, we cannot let it fall!’
The ministry smiled, said, ‘We’ll co-sponsor the stink—
public funds for the glory of this holy brink.’”

You wrap your madness in a history bow,
call it “heritage” so you never outgrow.


Holy legacy, holy shit,
if you can’t say why, then it is not.
Tradition’s just an alibi you wear to dodge the thought—
is it needed or not? That’s the only shot.
If all it gives is plague and pride,
let the “sacred custom” choke and die.



Old men polishing a sewage crown,
“Without this rite, our town breaks down.”
They spray perfume on septic years,
drown the stench in patriotic tears.
“Look, the state believes in our cause,
they pay the bills, they clap, they pause.”
But power loves a circus ring—
keep the herd distracted, they won’t change a thing.

You call it culture, but it’s just decay,
a fossil with a PR day.


Holy legacy, holy shit,
if you can’t say why, then it is not.
Tradition’s just an alibi for cowards scared of thought—
is it needed or not? Answer that or rot.
If all it spreads is filth and shame,
stop engraving it with your father’s name.



Children cough in the holy fog,
flies make halos in the bog.
“Hold your nose and clap on three—
this is our identity.”
You pass infection like a flag,
call it “roots” while futures sag.
“Since our elders bathed in waste,
we must keep the sacred taste.”

Pain in costume is still just pain,
a curse that marches down the chain.


Holy legacy, holy shit,
if you can’t say why, then it is not.
Tradition’s just an alibi when reason’s gone to pot—
is it needed or not? That’s the only plot.
If all it does is chain the young,
let that anthem leave your tongue.



If you stripped the word “tradition” from this scene,
you’d call it madness, not “our dream”.
If it started now, you’d scream and run,
but stamp it “old” and it’s suddenly fun.
“Always” is the laziest law,
“we’ve always done it” is rot in the core.
Necessity is the only plea—
everything else is coward’s decree.

Ritual without reason is a cage in disguise,
a corpse on a throne, wearing yesterday’s eyes.


Holy legacy, holy shit,
if you can’t say why, then it is not.
Ask one question: “Who is healed? Who is hurt? Who is bought?”
Is it needed or not? That’s the final shot.
Burn the script that poisons breath,
let dead customs meet their death.


What matters is will and what future you feed—
never worship chains,
never crown a rotten deed.

Legacy of Sacred

[Lyrics]

Four men brag around a dying fire,
feeding ghosts to their own desire.
“One time, I dropped a bear with my hands.”
“I lived with beauties in foreign lands.”
“I was the mind beside the king.”
“I owned a golden palace, everything.”
Their voices swell like they’re born to rule—
steel on their ankles quietly laughs at these fools.

The door is cracked, the sky is real,
but you kneel to the whip and call it a deal.


Withered limbs, corrupted minds,
no will for freedom, no battle lines.
You’d rather rot than break the frame,
a slave of comfort, loyal to the game.
No urge to rise, no fists to raise—
you die on your knees while singing your praise.



Four slaves whisper in the factory night,
hands like weapons, eyes sharp as light.
“I was the strongest fighter in the land.”
“I am the thief—no lock withstands my hand.”
“I see everything; nothing gets by me.”
“And with us four, we could all get free.”
The last one speaks like a spark in the dark,
three of them laugh and go out with the spark:
“Tomorrow’s work is a mountain high—
we’ll dream of escape, but we won’t try.”

The door is cracked, the sky is real,
but you kneel to the whip and call it a deal.


Withered limbs, corrupted minds,
no will for freedom, no battle lines.
You’d rather rot than break the frame,
a slave of comfort, loyal to the game.
No urge to rise, no fists to raise—
you die on your knees while singing your praise.



You clutch the past like a sacred brand,
“Since I was broken, they should be too,” you demand.
You call it “tough love,” call it “the way”—
it’s just your pain you’re passing away.
To freeze the world where you were bruised,
is spitting on lives you haven’t yet used.
Refusing change, you chain the dawn—
and stab tomorrow while you carry on.

The door is cracked, the sky is real,
but you kneel to the whip and call it a deal.


Withered limbs, corrupted minds,
no will for freedom, no battle lines.
You’d rather rot than break the frame,
a slave of comfort, loyal to the game.
No urge to rise, no fists to raise—
you die on your knees while singing your praise.



Your chains aren’t trophies, your legends are dust,
no glory survives if it blooms out of rust.
Past-life stories in a rented cage—
there’s nothing to boast in a rigged-out stage.
Inside this system, every “win” is a lie;
you farm fake honor and forget how to defy.


So shatter the game, let the rules cave in,
carve your own law in your bone and skin.
No need for masters, no thrones, no kings—
burn down the script, rewrite everything.

Only will is sacred—everything else is chain.
Never praise your shackles,
never glorify your pain.

Slave of Freedom

madness combat type beat

This smooth and calming track is meant to play softly in the background. Soft ambient piano and light spacey pad. Peaceful and soulful, perfect for relaxing, reflecting, work background, spa, yoga or other meditative soundscapes. Contemplate thoughts of life and love.
Full version: https://soundcloud.com/zevweinstein/calm-interlude

Calm Interlude Piano

DOWNLOAD

This smooth and calming track is meant to play softly in the background. Soft ambient piano, exotic birbyne reed instrument and light spacey pad. Peaceful and soulful, perfect for relaxing, reflecting, work background, spa, yoga or other meditative soundscapes. Contemplate thoughts of life and love.
Piano solo version: https://soundcloud.com/zevweinstein/calm-interlude-piano

Calm Interlude

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432 Hz Echoes of Unity

All songs are released into the public domain. 
Please feel free to download them.
No need to credit me, and you're even free to sell it if you like.
Hmm, but if you like it, I would love for you to help infected&spread my songs!
Link Free.  feel free to expose it anywhere you like.

I am a bacterium with mycolic acid on its surface.
I will damage your lungs.
And..... Smash commercialism.

i just want to change me
𝕿𝖔 𝕸𝖞𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖄𝖔𝖚
-southappbaby

"May the music bring tranquility, transformation and a profound sense of connection"

🪬 Hi and welcome to Music from the Firmament, a transformative journey of ambient, meditation, healing, and spiritual growth. 

Immerse yourself in the celestial melodies that resonate from the depths of the universe and harmonize your mind, body, and soul.

Music from the Firmament is a powerful tool for meditation, promoting deep relaxation and inner reflection. Let the music effortlessly dissolve stress and tension, restoring a sense of balance and harmony to your being.

🙏🏼 to the Stars,
Music from the Firmament

Based in Los Angeles, Zev Weinstein's varied musical background includes classical training, studio work, and stage performances for both Rock and Jazz bands as well as Theatrical productions. A love of ethnic music sounds and techniques embody much of his work, which includes World, Dramatic, Orchestral, Americana, Rock, Jazz, Ambient, and Country genres, among others. His music is featured in TV cues and steadily disseminated throughout various media venues. BMI IP# 00143400321

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