A slow, emotionally haunting piece meant to awaken hearts and spark awareness. The style leans toward acoustic soul with a raw, stripped-back feel—just vocals, deep chords, and space for the message to breathe.

Teach Me How To Feel Nothing

Promise

Let me die in your arms...

How Will I Be Remembered

Reckoning Storm

[Verse 1]
So many questions, so many assumptions,
What will it be like – beyond here and now?Beyond all space, beyond all time,
Who sets the course, when no one's left to guide?

[Pre-Chorus]
Who makes the rules – are there still forms?
What remains when no one stays?
What are the trials, where are the voices,
When the light slowly fades away?

[Chorus]
After life – will we be free?
Or is it just the end of you and me?
Will there be nothing, or will there be more,
A dream reborn from what was before?

After life – who will we be,
Without a body, endlessly?
Will we still feel, will we still care,
Or will it vanish into air?

[Verse 2]
Will we laugh, will we cry,
When nothing’s left to define us?
Will our shadows fade or deepen,
Hidden truths that still remind us?

[Bridge]
What will we dream of?
Will all wishes come true?
Or is that just illusion –
The mind’s final trick that reveals the truth?

[Chorus]
After life – will we be real?
A distant star we long to feel?
Or just silence, endless and wide,
A final fall we cannot hide?

[Outro]
What will it be……after this life?
Will we fly……or simply die?

After Life

Cover Art by Stratz
https://linktr.ee/stratzofficial

MGMT: officialstratz@mail.com

All beats prod. Tngey

With You

See the video here: https://www.instagram.com/p/DNdva4Cqts2/

From the rust-worn fence to the broken wheel
A whisper on the wind, a fear you can feel
Like the devil's breath on a humid night
A secret buried deep beneath the fading light

From the crooked path where the shadows creep
To the promise that a soul can't keep
A trail of dust and a whispered name
Lost in the fire of a dying flame

The mockingbird sings its bitter tune
'Neath the cold, indifferent, harvest moon
A hand that reaches, a hand that's pulled away
Another long night bleeds into another day

From the crooked path where the shadows creep
To the promise that a soul can't keep
A trail of dust and a whispered name
Lost in the fire of a dying flame

The scent of pine, the taste of rain
Washing away the memory of pain
But a ghost in the weeds still calls to me
A promise of what can never be

From the crooked path where the shadows creep
To the promise that a soul can't keep
A trail of dust and a whispered name
Lost in the fire of a dying flame

Lost in the Fire

Note To Self

Butter Brew Remedy

The Unseen Architects

Bookings only privat! Contact here or follow Instagram or Facebook link 

¡Shpiln di griln tantsn di vantsn!
The emptiness of various Corona lockdowns made Focke the Fockmaster. Musically, he tried out various styles to end up where everything once ended. Techno. 
With classical eight-year music training on the cello, pubescent excursions into New Wave music, everything followed a logic at the end of the 90s. Techno.

¡Shpiln di griln tantsn di vantsn!
Die Leere diverser Corona-Lockdowns machte Focke zum Fockmaster. Musikalisch probierte er sich stilistisch divers aus, um am Ende dorthin zu gelangen, wo alles einst endete. Techno. 
Mit klassischer achtjähriger Musikausbildung am Violoncello, pubertären Ausflügen in die New Wave Musik folgte Ende der 90er Jahre alles einer Logik. Techno.

Lost in the Fire

FOCKMASTER