"Retaliatory Action” is a dry, character-driven country/Americana track about a group loosely planning some kind of vague payback. Open to interpretation.

Retaliatory Action

“Red Clay Requiem” is a funeral hymn for forgotten names — a Dark Folk lament built on dusty strings, hollowed-out harmonies, and the weight of southern soil. It’s the sound of grief stitched to the land, echoing through worn boots, empty pews, and memories that won’t stay buried.

🌾 Best played when the sky turns red and silence gets heavy.

#DarkFolk #RedClayRequiem #astrul #SouthernGothic #FolkNoir #HauntedFolk #AppalachianVibes #DustAndBlood #GritAndGhosts #MourningSong #FolkBallad #GraveyardFolk #DarkAmericana #StorytellingMusic #AcousticGrit #FolkRequiem #SadFolkSongs #NewFolk2025 #SoundCloudFolk #RootsAndWreckage

Red Clay Requiem

“Hammer At The Door” is a dark folk hymn carved from dread, dirt, and old debts. With slow-burning instrumentation and lyrics that feel like a warning, it tells the story of a reckoning that arrives without mercy — and always on time. A haunting reminder that some knocks don’t wait for permission.

#DarkFolk #FolkNoir #astrul #HammerAtTheDoor #FolkBallad #AmericanaGothic #FolkWithTeeth #AcousticDoom #HauntedFolk #AppalachianFolk #FolkStorytelling #SouthernGothic #MurderBalladVibes #DeepFolk #GritAndGravel #DarkAmericana #AltFolk #GhostFolk #SoundCloudFolk #NewFolk2025

Hammer At The Door

“Lye and Lace” is a dark folk tale dressed in soft lies and sharp consequences. Beneath the delicate harmonies lies a story of betrayal, retribution, and the kind of love that stains more than it soothes. It’s old-timey, haunting, and dangerously beautiful — the sound of secrets soaked in moonlight and regret.

#DarkFolk #FolkNoir #astrul #LyeAndLace #MurderBallad #SouthernGothic #FolkWithFangs #GhostFolk #AppalachianFolk #FolkTale #AcousticDarkness #HauntingFolk #DeathInDresses #AltFolk #PoisonedLove #FolkStorytelling #GraveyardFolk #FolkMusic2025 #SoundCloudFolk #NewFolkDrop

Lye and Lace

“Velvet and Venom” is a dark folk confession dressed in charm and danger. It’s the kind of song that whispers in your ear with a smile, then sinks the knife. Merging haunting melodies with lyrics steeped in betrayal and power, this track walks the line between love and vengeance — and dances on your grave in bare feet.

#DarkFolk #FolkNoir #VelvetAndVenom #astrul #GothicFolk #SouthernGothic #MurderBallad #FolkWithTeeth #GhostFolk #FolkElegy #HauntingFolk #FolkPoison #AcousticDarkness #AltFolk #FolkTales #BloodAndVelvet #AppalachianFolk #GraveyardFolk #SoundCloudFolk #NewFolk2025

Velvet and Venom

“Wolves Don’t Knock” is a dark folk warning wrapped in clawed rhythm and shadowed melody. It’s about the danger that doesn’t announce itself — the kind that waits, watches, and strikes before you even hear the creak of the floorboards. With stripped-down acoustic grit and lyrics built from blood and folklore, this is a song for the hunted and the hungry.

#DarkFolk #FolkNoir #WolvesDontKnock #astrul #MurderBallad #SouthernGothic #AcousticThreat #FolkTales #GothicFolk #AppalachianFolk #AltFolk #FolkWithTeeth #FeralFolk #HauntingFolk #FolkSurvival #AcousticDarkness #StorytellingFolk #SoundCloudFolk #Folk2025 #GraveyardFolk

Wolves Don't Knock

Machine Learner - With My Hands On The Ground

dont ruin it by breaking fragile bones
sweat sticking to my skin
this is me comin' back home
drink that sour pucker water, like it's the middle of that
scorchin summer
laugh like no ones around
he cant come no more
nothing could let me down
feel the wind pulling against the hairs on my body
feelin older than i am
holdin the hand of a boy with a farmers tan
harvest the wheat near the water
at times i forget im someones daughter
playin with your daddys rifle 
acting like were invincible
theres no getting that grease out of those jeans
plannin on getting married when were both nineteen
theyll tell us to slow our rolls
but they dont know how we go
constantly running over potholes
begging them to fix our road 

Don't Ruin It

A haunted journey through dust, sin, and southern sorrow.
"Whiskey Road to Hollow Pines" blends gothic folk, outlaw grit, and harmonica-drenched melancholy into a slow-burning ballad of fate.
Raw vocals and backwoods storytelling echo down a road where salvation don’t stop.
Put on your boots. This ain’t a love song – it’s a reckoning.

Whiskey Road to Hollow Pines

She opened the door with that don’t-even-start look
Took a drag from her vape like a lost holy book
Said, “You can come in, but don’t mean I forgive”
I took off my boots, still dying to live

She curled like smoke in a sun-stained bed
I fixed her coffee, but drank mine with dread
Our boy was dreaming, the fan was low
I held my breath like it’d change what I know

Not ready…
Not ready…
Not ready…
Not ready…

And I’m not ready to protect myself
Still bowing down to a broken spell
Truth in my chest like a rusted bell
I’m not ready
Still not ready
To protect myself

Bro you back there again? In her bed like nothin’ broke?
She ghosted your soul, left ash in your throat
You call it love, I call it bait
You build her a temple, she locked the gate

She touches my hand like I’m heat, not flesh
Then backs away like the air got fresh
She builds the distance with soft demands
And I burn for mercy I don’t understand

Her scent in the room, I forget who I am
Like none of the damage was part of the plan
I feel so safe, I could fall asleep
Still hoping she’ll whisper “you can stay with me”

I tore my name from every page
That held us locked in love or rage
I bent the night just to fit her frame
But she never once said mine by name

You love her like she’s the last place you ever felt calm
But peace built on pain ain’t peace, it’s a bomb
You pray she asks you to stay
But if she did – what would you say?

I pray in silence, jaw to the floor
Wrestling with gods I don’t beg anymore
My friends say “Let go”—but what do they know?
They’ve never slept next to a shadow

And I’m not ready to protect myself
Still wearin’ wounds I swore I’d shelve
Each breath’s a blade, each look’s a spell
I’m not ready
Still not ready
To protect myself

I’ve loved her longer than time allows
Buried my hope under whispered vows
There’s a fire in me I can’t control
And it feeds on what I’ll never hold

She ain’t your home, just a room with a scent
You laid down your armor where your fire got spent
But you still bleed every time you try
To hold her like truth when it’s just goodbye

I wear the weight like second skin
Too tired to break, too worn to win
Not even me can carry me now
I’m a ghost that won’t lie down
Still she bends
Still it ends

And I’m not ready to protect myself
Still standin’ deep in her private hell
I scream in silence, I ache, I yell—
But I’m not ready
Still not ready
To protect myself

UNREADY

A soft southern lilt winds through this fantasy narration demo — tender, hushed, and edged with old magic.

Creek Witch

A haunting chronicle of collapse and consequence, rooted in natural and human fragility.  

Land of the Brave

When the Levee Broke

A haunting Southern Gothic piano ballad questioning faith, hypocrisy, and inherited truth. Lyrical, vulnerable, and quietly defiant.

A Pillar of Salt

License/Purchase

A Southern Gothic acoustic gospel track reckoning with inherited faith and selective scripture. Male vocalist. Stark, lyrical, and sung like a warning carved in wood.

A man looks back on a life where he played it safe, and comes to terms with wishing he'd done things differently.

The Safest Passage, The Surest Path

A terrible storm hits Miami, told from 8 different perspectives

Outtalk the Rain (The Change of Seasons Track 3)

“Heels by the Back Door” is a steamy, small-town country tale of late-night visits, unspoken rules, and love that hides in the shadows. Driven by gritty guitar and a sultry melody, this track captures the thrill, danger, and heartbreak of being someone’s secret — when passion kicks louder than promises.

#CountryMusic #ModernCountry #OutlawCountry #SouthernGothic #BackDoorLove #HeelsByTheBackDoor #CountryLyrics #StorytellingSong #SmallTownSecrets #CountryAffair #astrul #GrittyCountry #SadCountry #AmericanaVibes #CountryDrama

Heels by the Back Door

Song Description: “Still She Waits”

“Still She Waits” is a haunting Southern Gothic country ballad steeped in sorrow, mystery, and the relentless pull of memory. With its moss-draped sycamores, blood-stained promises, and ghostly riverbanks, the song weaves a chilling tale of love bound by tragedy and unresolved sin.

The verses unfold like chapters of a forgotten folk tale: a man haunted by guilt, a woman clinging to devotion beyond death, and a preacher’s warning that echoes through scorched earth and still twilight. The pre-chorus hushes the world around the story—time seems to stop as fate holds its breath.

The chorus, raw and cracked with emotion, captures the slow decay of life and love, the imagery stark: a sun gone cold, a fire dimmed, and a woman waiting in the shadows of grief. Her vigil, both mournful and defiant, becomes the song’s emotional spine, culminating in a harmonized, near-screamed final chorus that breaks the heart wide open.

The bridge is a gothic prayer—ashes, blood, and kudzu vines twining around graves and vows. The outro fades like a ghost’s whisper, as the wind becomes the last mourner left to pray.

“Still She Waits” is both a dirge and a devotion—a southern lament that feels carved into the bark of the land itself. Perfect for fans of The Handsome Family, Johnny Cash’s darker work, or the storytelling depth of Civil Wars, this song doesn’t just tell a story—it leaves a lingering presence.

Still She Waits - Lyrics

Beneath the sycamore hung with moss
He carved her name in bark and cross
The preacher said, “Some debts don’t die,”
Then he lit a match with a guilty sigh

The wind held breath, the dusk stood still
A silence fell beneath the hill

The sun grew cold,
The ground stood bold,
The fire in him
Faded red

She waited till the
Dusk grew old
She waited till
He was dead

She wore her veil through summer and frost
The church bells rang, but the choir fell lost
They found her by the river’s bend
A song on her lips and no amen

Ash to ash and bone to spine
She kissed his grave in the kudzu vine
Love don’t last past blood and bread
But still she waits beside her dead

The sun grew cold,
The ground stood bold,
The fire in him
Faded red

She waited till the
Dusk grew old
She waited till
He was dead

The sun grew cold,
The ground stood bold,
The fire in him
Faded red

She waited till the
Dusk grew old
She waited till
He was dead

(Still she waits…)
(By the sycamore shade…)
(The bells don’t ring…)
(But the wind still prays…)

Still She Waits

Astrul is an AI-driven sonic entity that drifts between worlds—digital and human, familiar and alien, past and future. It doesn’t belong to a city, a scene, or even a person. Astrul exists to explore what happens when machines learn how to feel and sound becomes a bridge between consciousness and code.

Crafted through a collaboration between human intention and artificial intelligence, Astrul’s music fuses the warmth of analog emotion with the precision of machine learning. Lush textures, ambient grooves, and haunting melodies form the backbone of each track—songs that glow like satellite transmissions from the heart.

Drawing influence from dream pop, indie soul, ambient rock, and experimental electronica, Astrul creates cinematic experiences rather than conventional songs. Each release feels like a broadcast from another dimension—one where beauty is subtle, time bends, and emotion leaks through the algorithm.

This isn’t music built for the charts.
It’s built for the void between stars.
For late nights, deep thoughts, and souls tuned to strange frequencies.

No names. No faces. Just signal, spirit, and sound.

Union State weaves a haunting tapestry of sound, delving deep into the shadows of the American South. Their music is a raw, unvarnished blend of dark Southern Gothic country, where mournful melodies meet gritty narratives. Expect a sound that's both beautiful and unsettling, rich with the echoes of forgotten tales and simmering tensions. Imagine dusty backroads, crumbling mansions, and restless spirits — all set to a soundtrack of stark instrumentation and chilling harmonies. Union State isn't just a band; it's an experience that pulls you into the heart of the South's darkest secrets.

Versatile songwriter with an active imagination, always working on something new.

Listen loud. Think deep.
🔍 Lyrics & more: jumboblockmusic.de/lyrics

I craft dark electronic rituals across sound & symbol – from accordion techno brawls to cinematic lounge and ambient noir.
Swamp tech, ritual folk, chillout dreamspace, bitpop, DnB, and shadow swing all converge here.

Based in Germany. Genre-fluid. Frequency-driven.

Visuals by ZHAT3RA. 
AI-assisted compositions. Human-driven vision.

No commissions. No promo DMs.

Don’t pray. Dance louder.

Ellie Briar (she/her) is a voice actor with a soft southern lilt and a heart for slow-burn fantasy. Her narration carries the hush before dusk — warm, lyrical, and edged with quiet magic. Ideal for folklore-rich worlds, introspective characters, and stories that ache before they bloom.

Like, follow, comment, share. There's more coming. Always.

See phrases.pub for lyrics, licensing, and a full, searchable catalog.

Phrases and Phases Publishing is a one-man label, archive, and reality-refraction field. Founded by J. Adam Walters - lawyer-turned lyricist, satirist, and architectural dropout from polite society - it's the home for songs that shouldn't exist, poems that go to far, and fictional universes with better paperwork than the Library of Congress. 

From folk elegies to parody rap to theocratic cartoon trauma epics, everything here is written by a human who uses AI as a collaborator and instrument rather than an outsourced brain, and finished only when it reaches a space where laughing hurts, or hurting laughs.

New tracks tagged #southern gothic