Three Days Grace - On My Own(Slowed Reverb)

i do not own the original music !!!
enjoy<33

three days grace- never too late (slowed + reverb)

One Step Closer (Linkin Park)𝙎𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙

Time Of Dying Slowed

Puddle Of Mudd - Psycho Slowed

Diary Of Jane SLOWED

Dᴏᴡɴ Wɪᴛʜ Tʜᴇ Sɪᴄᴋɴᴇss \Dɪsᴛᴜʀʙᴇᴅ/ S̶ʟ̶ᴏ̶ᴡ̶ᴇ̶ᴅ̶

Linkin Park - Faint (slowed + reverb)

intent 
TRAP SOOLA
2025
Prod by BAD KID

your intentions 
will, bleed upon
you'll, do with what you will 
break your nasty scar

intent

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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[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.

Puddle Of Mudd - Psycho Slowed

RanTheNastika