dear Apocalypse, sit

I am not ok

On a raté le dernier train

A sigh in the void,
A tremor on the lips.
In a frozen throat,
Bitter ice.
For those silent in the age-old snows,
The time has come,
The time has come!

Here, every sound
Like a terrible sin.
Confession is like a last breath.
Here, even laughter is shackled with fear,
Here, the morning takes us by surprise.

Eyes learned to speak,
Fingers wrote on the winds.
Turquoise shone through the ice,
Frost layered on the lips.

But something breaks from within,
Like the first ray through the thickness of the ice.
The ghouls are on guard,
Words are born in our chests.

We are no longer mute, no!
Voices sound like thunderstorms.
The sound burst into God's light
And shifted our poles.
The world burst like a melted bubble. 
And we sing! And we sing!

At first, just a timid splash,
Ripples in circles across the canvas,
The farewell crack of silent ice floes,
A word explodes the silence.

Your voice, my voice,
All that's locked inside,
Timidly at first, out of tune,
Suddenly fills the wastelands.

We will find each other in song,
Sound flies from heart to heart,
Overflowing the horizon,
And something greater resounds.

Enmity and fear recede,
A new day dawns over the world.
In the unity of our voices,
The universe itself sings.

We are no longer mute, no!
Voices sweep away the walls,
Each is transparent in the light,
Miracles have become accessible.
Old fears are nothing!
And we sing! And we sing!

Silence seemed fate,
But in everyone there's a song! The hour has struck!
Our Spirit sings, though the flesh is weak,
The wave lifts us.

We are no longer mute, no!
The sound is boundless, like the ocean!
We lived in silence for so many years,
The hurricane tears away our bonds!
Suddenly we recognize ourselves in another.
And we sing! And we sing!

And if the thread breaks,
The echo will join the eternal choir,
It will live in its breath,
Defiant of the wild winds.

September 28, 2025. © Victor Sea

The Choir of the Mute

When we first started writing songs together we thought we’d keep it simple but found the allure of a full band sound too tempting to ignore. This song, about the destructive patterns we get locked into, is us fulfilling that original intention - just acoustic guitar, violin and vocals. The riff that underpins the song could have gone another way….that’ll be the next release.

Sugar Trail

A chilling slow-burn folk tale that centers on a woodcutter, a jar, and nature’s terrible patience.

The Jar

“Oh, I don’t know the scripture, but I know what sin feels like.”
 
Gather close, boys, light the flame
Pass the flask and forget your old name
We’ll scream into the sky for all we’ve done
John says, “The wild die young.”

Oh, hey, oh, hey

Kick the dust from off your pride
No use hiding about when you lied
We all broke something we can’t replace
We'll beg for grace, right to God’s own face!

Oh, hey, but we say Grace!

 
We’re havin’ a back-road revelation
Someone bring the bourbon and burn the invitation
For the sins and the damn derision
Wash me in a flood of smoke, that old religion!

I seen boys pray to the god of chrome
Smoke that glass pipe, and lost their home
Cried out loud to no one in the sky
“If I wake up clean, I swear I’ll try.”

Oh, hey, oh, hey

But the morning comes, puts us in chains
Same old devil, same old names
We ain’t saints, and we ain’t right
We're shadows burning in his light

Oh, hey, but we fight, alright!

We’re havin’ a back-road revelation
Someone call the preacher and someone fake the station
For the sake of our own salvation
Baptize me in busted glass and a signed declaration

I don’t know the chapter, don’t know the verse
But I know some nights feel like a curse
And I know the Lord don’t hear my name
But I still kneel when I feel that flame

We’re havin’ a back-road revelation
Someone light a candle and call it consecration
For the blood and the desecration
Lay me down in a field of smoke and let the choir take rotation

We’re havin’ a back-road revelation
Someone light a candle and call it consecration
For the blood and the desecration
Lay me down in a field of smoke and let the choir take rotation

Gather close, boys, say your peace
We ain’t clean, but we found release
We ain’t clean, but we found release
We ain’t clean, but we found release

Back-Road Revelation

“The Vessel” by KAT is not a song about withdrawal — it’s about return.

A return to the inner stillness that doesn’t need to justify, perform, or prove.
It is the sound of standing quietly in one’s own light — of being the vessel, not the explanation.

Soft ambient textures and warm vocals hold space for silence itself —
each tone a heartbeat, each pause a breath of presence.

This is where expression becomes essence.
Where the voice stops explaining — and starts being.

* updated HD remaster — clearer, deeper sound

This Vessel

A mythical tale of an owl helping its mistress to deal with the problem of increasing lying and denying, that is attacking truth. This is a prequel to my song "Nowhere to Hide" (https://soundcloud.com/larcsrugby/nowhere-to-hide)

© lyric here https://allpoetry.com/poem/18729117-The-Owl-And-The-Vow-by-Lockdown-Larcs

oh how AI music loves a duet LOL



The Owl And The Vow

Dj.DamianR - PRZEJDĘ DZIEŃ TEN  (Wiersze Romy Lemańskiej)

Этот трек — как шаг в туман.
Где каждая нота — заклинание,
каждый удар — биение сердца ночи,
каждый шёпот — как приглашение зайти глубже в лес.

«Ведьма» — это ритуал.
Это энергия, которую не спрятать.
Это связь с землёй, с теми, кто был до нас.

ведьма.mp3

Some kind of music in my head! ). And I can't do anything about it. 

You can listen to my songs here:
https://youtube.com/@athanasiusis?si=J7rEgyHuvmYzWFrV

The Choir of the Mute

Victor Sea

Recent comments

No Mates Ensemble

Related tracks