Whispers of Your Death

Define The Great Line

Writing On The Walls

Fog Over Whitechapel — This opening track launches a brutal ritual concept album that reimagines Jack the Ripper as an ancient horror stalking gaslit London. Industrial metal, gothic doom, and occult theatrics collide in a suffocating fog of myth and murder. Full album coming Halloween 2025.

Lyrically paints the poverty and desperation of 1888 Whitechapel while hinting at an unseen hunger stirring in the mist. A shadow moves with intent, though whether man or something darker is left uncertain.

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[Verse 1]
Hush — hush —
I walk where gaslight cracks the stone.
Fog drinks secrets from your bones.
My boots pound streets of rust and prayer,
My breath a curse, my grin a snare.

[Chorus 1]
In fog I wake — your pulse undone —
A myth reborn beneath the gun.
Gaslight hums my gutter vow —
I am the blade that carves you now.

[Verse 2]
Steel whispers steam in alley jaws —
(I cut, I carve — the god I draw)
Rust and silk beneath my thumb —
(I hush the street — the ritual drum)

Your breath is frost — your prayer is ash —
(I grin where lanterns flicker, crash)
Fog-bound throat — the oath you keep —
(A hymn of iron where secrets sleep)

[Chorus 2]
In fog I wake — the myth divine —
Your heartbeat hums inside my spine.
Lanterns drown where shadows bow —
I am the cut that feeds you now.

[Bridge]
Come closer — hush — your pulse, my hymn —
Gaslight swears the fog grows thin.
I break the street — I breathe you whole —
A throat of wire, a soul of coal.

[Breakdown]
Hounds in steam — I tear the sleep —
Scrap-bound hands — the butcher creeps —
Chant the oath — the fog devours —
Gutter hymn — the iron flowers.

[Final Chorus]
In fog I wake — your fear confined —
A myth reborn inside your mind.
Lanterns choke — your secrets bow —
I am the blade — I am you now.

[Outro]
When fog returns, so too shall I —
Your throat, my blade, Whitechapel’s cry.

Moving For The Sake Of Motion

Underoath