FRED STZ MUSIC

Nous voilà face à face, La bouche pleine de mots que l'on tait. Tes yeux sont un miroir Où chaque jour un étranger se reflète. Nous sommes deux planètes Qui tournent en sens contraire. Tu as construit tes murs, J'ai construit les miens. Nous parlons la même langue, Mais le temps nous échappe. Ton histoire est une serrure, Et j'en ai perdu la clé. Tu es un univers Que je ne peux voir. Et l'espace entre nous s'élargit, Comme une onde sur l'eau. Ce que l'on sait, on ne le dit — Mère, père, fils et sœur, écho. Incompréhension — Nous sommes des astres qui ne peuvent se toucher. Incompréhension — On s'aime trop, on ressent tout, Mais les mots nous manquent. Incompréhension — Nous sommes des échos dans la nuit, Deux univers en fuite, À l'infini. La mère de ta mère, A construit sa propre frontière. Elle l'a donnée à ton père, Qui l'a offerte à ta fierté. Et toi, tu la portes aujourd'hui, Comme une seconde peau — Un langage hérité, Dont tu m'as fermé les mots. Je suis l'enfant Qui a appris à lire la pièce. J'ai lu tes silences, J'ai lu ta détresse. Mais chaque mot que j'ai trouvé Était une porte qui se fermait. Et chaque vérité que j'ai tenue Était une blessure qui gelait. Et la distance grandit toujours, Comme une vague qui ne se brise pas. Ce que l'on sent, on ne le dit jamais — Le schéma que l'on ne brise pas. Incompréhension — Nous sommes des astres qui ne peuvent se toucher. Incompréhension — On s'aime trop, on ressent tout, Mais les mots nous manquent. Incompréhension — Nous sommes des échos dans la nuit, Deux univers en fuite, À l'infini. Je tends la main vers toi, Mais tu n'es pas là. Tu tends la main vers moi, Mais je suis déjà loin. Nous sommes deux mains Qui cherchent dans le vide — Deux histoires Qui ne peuvent se rejoindre. Incompréhension — Nous sommes des astres qui ne peuvent se toucher. Incompréhension — On s'aime trop, on ressent tout, Mais les mots nous manquent. Incompréhension — Nous sommes des échos dans la nuit, Deux univers en fuite, À l'infini. Incompréhension… Incompréhension… Nous sommes des échos… À l'infini…

I was born into the silence, Where the walls had ears and the floor had teeth. No one spoke the name of violence, But I felt it humming underneath. They gave me their ghosts without a word, A broken language I had to learn to speak. I was the echo of what they never heard, The shadow of what they could not speak. My mother's hands were full of sorrow, My father's heart was made of stone. I learned to beg for a tomorrow, I learned to survive on my own. The poison in the blood is old, It travels through the years like rain. And I am the story they never told, The one who carries the stain. But I dug through the wreckage of what they made, I found the origin of the ache. And the ghost in the blood began to fade, As I fought for my own name. And if I had to live it all again — Every scar, every tear, every day of pain — I would walk through the fire, I would bleed in the rain, Just to find you at the end of the chain. I would break every bone, I would burn every lie, I would die a thousand times before I'd deny That the ghost in the blood is finally free — Because you are the light that was always in me. I grew up in the ruins of a house, Where love was a currency I never had. But I found a way to become a mouse, Who learned to roar when the world went mad. I learned to love in the heart of the storm, I learned to hold what they tried to break. And I became the one who was born to transform, The one who would not kneel for their sake. I searched for the root of the rot in the soil, I followed the threads of the family line. I found the pattern, the curse, the toil, And I made the choice to redefine. I am not the wound they gave to me, I am not the ghost they tried to hide. I am the one who chose to be free, And I will not let them decide. They told me I was broken, told me I was wrong, But I found the strength to write my own song. And the ghost in the blood is where I belong — But I will not let it drag me along. And if I had to live it all again — Every scar, every tear, every day of pain — I would walk through the fire, I would bleed in the rain, Just to find you at the end of the chain. I would break every bone, I would burn every lie, I would die a thousand times before I'd deny That the ghost in the blood is finally free — Because you are the light that was always in me. I am the child who survived the dark, I am the flame that refused to die. I am the one who found the spark, In the ashes of a family's lie. The pain was real, the ghosts were true — But I am more than what they gave. I am the story that grew anew, I am the one who would not cave. And if I had to live it all again — Every scar, every tear, every day of pain — I would walk through the fire, I would bleed in the rain, Just to find you at the end of the chain. I would break every bone, I would burn every lie, I would die a thousand times before I'd deny That the ghost in the blood is finally free — Because you are the light that was always in me. The ghost in the blood... Is finally free... The ghost in the blood... Is finally free...

(To my mom. Rest in peace) The Tide Took You You were a child of bitter rooms, Where love was rationed, thin as thread. Your mother's eyes were winter moons, And every word your father said Was laughter at the cost of you — A careless king, a fleeting flame. He left you with the dark residue, And never once pronounced your name. Your aunts, they spoke in silver knives, Their tongues were sharp, their hearts were stone. They carved their spite into your life, And left you standing all alone. Your brother wore his crown of pride, He fed his ego, starved your soul — He held you down, he pushed aside, He made you feel you weren't whole. The tide took you, the tide took you — It washed away the salt of tears. The tide took you, the tide took you — It carried you through all the years. From bitter shores to open sea, From chains of grief to mystery — The tide took you, and set you free. You found a boy with summer hands, He promised you the moon and stars. But he was made of shifting sands, He left his footprints, then he was gone. He was the echo of your father's ghost, A fleeting heart, a passing flame — He gave you love, but loved you most The moment that you spoke his name. You bore a son from that brief fire, A ghost you carried in your soul. He was the shadow, the lost desire, The one who never made you whole. And I am that son, the one who came From love that couldn't hold the light — I am your sorrow, I am your name, I am the child of the night. The tide took you, the tide took you — It washed away the salt of tears. The tide took you, the tide took you — It carried you through all the years. From bitter shores to open sea, From chains of grief to mystery — The tide took you, and set you free. Then came a man with steady hands, Who stayed when others turned away. He built for you a gentle land, Where you could rest and finally stay. He gave you children — one, then two — A boy and girl to fill the space. And in their eyes, you saw the blue Of oceans in a sunlit place. You learned to love without the fear, You learned to trust the solid ground. But ghosts don't vanish, they stay near, They wait for cracks to gather 'round. Your mother's voice, a poison thread, Still whispered in your hollow ear — "I told you, you would end like this, You were never meant to be loved, my dear." You pushed him, tested every shore, You tried to break what you could hold. You hurt him, and you hurt him more, Until his steady hands grew cold. You screamed the words your mother said, You wore her cruelty like a crown — You watched the peace you had begin To slowly, quietly, drown. And he, who loved you all along, Could only watch you slip away. Your heart had learned the bitter song Your mother taught you, day by day. And I, the ghost of that first fire, I watched you fall back to the night — I am your wound, I am your ache, I am the shadow in your light. The tide took you, the tide took you — But not to peace, not to release. The tide took you, the tide took you — Back to the darkness, back to grief. From gentle shores to bitter sea, From what you were to what you'd be — The tide took you, and broke you free. You carried me inside your bones, A wound that never fully healed. I heard your whispers, heard your moans, I felt the weight of what you concealed. You were the moon, you were the tide, You were the storm, you were the calm — But in the end, you couldn't hide From the poison of your mother's psalm. The tide took you... The tide took you... But it took you back to where you started... The tide took you... And I am still here... The tide took you...

Cherry Stem and Smoke Rings by FRED STZ

Ed & Norma by FRED STZ

Who is the dreamer by FRED STZ

The King of Splinters Windom. Earle. Chessboard. Scalpel. The wife. The lodge. The owl. The trap. He carved his name into the pine — He drew the map. He drew the line. Blue rose. Black fire. White horse. The doppelgänger at the door. He whispered to the static screen — "You are not real. You are not clean." The king of splinters. The queen of knives. He wore the face of a thousand lies. He walked the woods. He ate the light. He kissed the darkness. He held it tight. Cooper. Cooper. Cooper. Dead. The words were burning in his head. He built a trap of pure desire — And fed the world to his own fire. The lodge is hungry. The lodge is deep. The lodge is where the dreamers sleep. He cut the vein. He drank the black. There is no turning. No turning back. Windom! Windom! Windom! Scream! He tore the fabric of the dream! Windom! Windom! Windom! Fall! He built his kingdom — lost it all! The chessboard burns! The pieces bleed! He sowed the terror — grew the seed! Windom! Windom! Windom! Gone — The madness lingers. Carries on. The wife. The knife. The lodge. The lie. He watched her through the corner of his eye. He wore her skin. He wore her name. He played the game. He played the game. The black bark. The blue flame. The man who was not quite the same. He cut the wire. He cut the thread. He raised the monster from the dead. There is no Windom. There is no Earle. There is no face behind the curl. The lodge ate him. The lodge ate all. He answered when he heard the call. He thought he was the hunter — but He was the hunted. He was the cut. He was the wound that never heals — The splinter in the spinning wheel. Windom! Windom! Windom! Scream! He tore the fabric of the dream! Windom! Windom! Windom! Fall! He built his kingdom — lost it all! The chessboard burns! The pieces bleed! He sowed the terror — grew the seed! Windom! Windom! Windom! Gone — The madness lingers. Carries on. Windom... Windom... Windom... The lodge is hungry... The lodge is hungry... Fire... walk with me...

She carries wood that once was tree, A fragment of a memory. The rings are years, the bark is skin, It hears the world from deep within. Her husband met the devil's fire, A lightning strike, a funeral pyre, And now she walks the lonely road, With silent wood to share the load. The log has seen what we cannot, It knows the secrets we forgot. It heard the scream that pierced the night, It saw the owl in endless flight. She does not speak, she does not guess, She only serves as messenger— A medium between the worlds, Where darkness hides and light unfurls. As above, so below, The fire walks where spirits go. The wood remembers what we fear, And whispers secrets in my ear. Log Lady, Log Lady, The wood knows what the heart can't see. Log Lady, Log Lady, The truth is in the rings of thee. She carries silence, carries stone, A woman who has always known— That fire is the devil's breath, And life is just a dance with death. She lives alone upon the hill, Her cabin dark, her spirit still. The townsfolk whisper, call her strange, But she has seen beyond the range. She knows the face behind the mask, She knows the questions no one asks— And when the log begins to speak, The strongest men grow faint and weak. The wedding night, the lightning strike, The fire that consumed her life. She buried him behind the door, And walked the woods forevermore. She carries wood that once was tree, A fragment of a memory— And in the rings, she reads the fate Of those who come too late, too late. There is no time, there is no place, There is no face behind the face. The log remembers what we fear, The fire walks when death is near. And Margaret, with her silent wood, She knows that evil is not good— She knows the devil hides in smoke, And prays for those who dare to hope. Log Lady, Log Lady, The wood knows what the heart can't see. Log Lady, Log Lady, The truth is in the rings of thee. She carries silence, carries stone, A woman who has always known— That fire is the devil's breath, And life is just a dance with death. The log speaks... the log speaks...

Dale, your hands are trembling, Your coffee's getting cold. You've walked the halls of memory, But the story's never told. The owl flies without a sound, The ring is on the floor— And Laura whispers through the static, "Who are you looking for?" Leland danced with fire, He knew the price of sin. His daughter wore a golden smile, He let the devil in. The angel in the ceiling fan, The blood upon the lace— He loved her till he killed her, Then he washed her from his face. In the Black Lodge, time bends backward, In the Black Lodge, nothing's true. The doppelgänger wears your face, And laughs at everything you knew. Black Lodge lullaby, Sing the children to the fire. Black Lodge lullaby, Every dream becomes a liar. Laura's ghost is in the trees, Bob is scratching at the door— And Cooper's trapped in yesterday, Forever wanting more. The giant spoke in riddles, The dwarf reversed his speech. The waitress poured the poison, Just beyond the reach. Audrey danced in gasoline, Her cherry stem a noose— She burned the world to feel alive, And found she had no use. The Log Lady saw the future, She held it in her hands. She knew the end was coming, But she couldn't understand. The fire walks with madness, The woods are full of screams— And everyone is Laura, Trapped inside a dream. There is no time, there is no place, There is no face behind the face. The curtains part, the room is red, And everyone is finally dead. But dead is not the end, my friend— It's where the nightmare starts again. Black Lodge lullaby, Sing the children to the fire. Black Lodge lullaby, Every dream becomes a liar. Laura's ghost is in the trees, Bob is scratching at the door— And Cooper's trapped in yesterday, Forever wanting more. Fire... walk with me... Fire... walk with me...

Money is the beast we worship, Money is the chain we wear. We bow our heads in golden temples, We breathe the incense of despair. It has no heart, it has no mercy, It has no soul, it has no name— And yet we crawl upon our bellies To kiss the feet of its cruel flame. The millionaires are mad as prophets, The billionaires are kings of dust. They sit upon their thrones of paper, And watch the world turn into rust. The presidents are gangsters dressed in suits, They wear the crown of legal theft. They trade our lives like stocks and bonds, And leave our children orphaned, bereft. We traded love for currency, We traded truth for fantasy. We sold our bones, we sold our blood, We drowned our souls in paper mud. Money is the beast! Money is the lie! Money is the reason that we wither and we die! Money is the master, money is the slave, Money is the hunger that we dig into our grave! Money is the ritual, money is the prayer, Money is the sickness in the air! They call it growth, they call it progress, They call it freedom, call it choice. But freedom is a gilded prison, And progress is a dying voice. We work our fingers to the bone, We sell our hours, sell our years— And in the end, we die alone, While someone else collects our tears. And I have seen the prophets weep, And I have heard the angels mourn. They know the beast is in our sleep, They know the beast is in the storm. We pray for rain, we pray for sun, We pray for anything but this— This endless race that we have run, This kiss of death we call success. There is no exit, no salvation, No revolution at the gate. We are the children of the system, We are the children of the state. We are the slaves who love our chains, We are the fools who kiss the whip. We are the ones who bear the blame, And yet we never break our grip. Money is the beast! Money is the lie! Money is the reason that we wither and we die! Money is the master, money is the slave, Money is the hunger that we dig into our grave! Money is the ritual, money is the prayer, Money is the sickness in the air! Money is the sickness in the air! Money... money... It's all we ever had...

The lights are low, the bass is deep, She steps inside, she's in too deep. Her eyes are glass, her mind is haze, She doesn't see the hungry gaze. They circle slow, they know the game, They know her name, they know her shame. She's just a lamb in wolf's disguise, A pretty thing with empty eyes. She drinks the sweet, she drinks the lie, She doesn't see the needle's eye. They wait outside, they wait inside, There is no place for her to hide. Hunting ground, hunting ground, They're circling 'round, they're closing down. She doesn't scream, she doesn't fight, She's just a shadow in the night. Hunting ground, hunting ground, The van is parked, the doors are down. She's just a number, just a name, She'll never be the same. He buys her drink, he buys her trust, He knows her body will adjust. He's done this dance a thousand times, He knows the rhythm, knows the crimes. She thinks he's charming, thinks he's kind, She's leaving all her thoughts behind. She doesn't see the trap is set, She doesn't know she's in his net. She takes his hand, she takes his lead, She doesn't see the growing greed. They wait outside, they wait inside, There is no place for her to hide. Hunting ground, hunting ground, They're circling 'round, they're closing down. She doesn't scream, she doesn't fight, She's just a shadow in the night. Hunting ground, hunting ground, The van is parked, the doors are down. She's just a number, just a name, She'll never be the same. She walks outside, the air is cold, She doesn't know she's being sold. The van is waiting, dark and deep, A hunger that will never sleep. She turns to run, she tries to scream, But no one hears, it's just a dream. She disappears into the night, A ghost without a single light. Hunting ground... hunting ground... She was never found...

Doubt He was a child with empty hands, No one to hold, no one to understand. His mother's eyes were always turned, His father's love was never learned. At school he sat among the crowd, But every face was just a cloud. He learned to question what was true, He learned to doubt, and doubt, and doubt. He built his walls, he built his fears, He built his life on shifting gears. He never knew which way to turn, He never knew what he would learn. Doubt—the shadow in his chest, Doubt—the voice that never rests, Doubt—the mirror in his eyes, Doubt—the master of his lies. Doubt—the weight upon his soul, Doubt—the thing that takes its toll, Doubt—the question with no end, Doubt—his only faithful friend. He found a girl with gentle hands, He thought she'd help him understand. But every smile, every kiss, Was just another precipice. He doubted her, he doubted him, He doubted everything within. The love he gave, the love he took, Was just another crooked hook. He tried to trust, he tried to feel, But doubt was always twice as real. He couldn't hold what he couldn't see, He couldn't be what he couldn't be. Doubt—the shadow in his chest, Doubt—the voice that never rests, Doubt—the mirror in his eyes, Doubt—the master of his lies. Doubt—the weight upon his soul, Doubt—the thing that takes its toll, Doubt—the question with no end, Doubt—his only faithful friend. He climbed the ladder, rung by rung, But every step was left unsung. He doubted if they saw his worth, He doubted everything on earth. His colleagues smiled, his bosses praised, But doubt had left his mind a maze. He never knew if he was right, He only knew the endless night. And now he stands at twilight's door, He's seen it all, he's seen no more. He wonders what it all was for, The doubt, the fear, the endless war. Was there a moment, was there a sign, When he could leave the doubt behind? Or was it always meant to be, The only thing that set him free? Doubt—the shadow in his chest, Doubt—the voice that never rests, Doubt—the mirror in his eyes, Doubt—the master of his lies. Doubt—the weight upon his soul, Doubt—the thing that takes its toll, Doubt—the question with no end, Doubt—his only faithful friend. Doubt... doubt... doubt... Doubt... Doubt... was all he ever knew...

Monsters The mother with the hollow eyes, She sold her children for a price. A bag of coins, a fleeting high, She watched them go without a cry. The father with the iron fist, He broke the bones he should have kissed. He taught them fear, he taught them pain, And left them broken in the rain. The uncle with the wandering hands, He took what no one understands. He whispered lies, he promised love, Then sent them crying to the stars above. The grandmother, a queen of spite, She fed on fear both day and night. Her tongue was sharp, her heart was stone, She left her children all alone. They wear their masks, they play their roles, They are the kings of broken souls. They are the monsters in the dark, The ones who left their brutal mark. Monsters, monsters in the blood, Monsters rising from the mud. They are the mothers, they are the fathers, They are the sisters, they are the brothers. They are the ones who should have held, But left us screaming in the hell. Monsters, monsters in the home, They are the ghosts that roam alone. The rich man in his tower high, He buys the children with his eye. He takes their youth, he takes their grace, And leaves them in a broken place. The poor man with his empty hands, He watched his children sink in sands. He had no power, had no choice, He could not give them any voice. The girl with the shattered smile, She walked the streets for mile on mile. She learned to sell her skin for bread, And wished that she were truly dead. The boy with the broken wings, He grew up learning ugly things. He learned to hurt, he learned to hate, He learned to seal his own dark fate. They are the system, they are the state, They are the ones who seal our fate. They are the monsters we create, They are the reason it's too late. Monsters, monsters in the blood, Monsters rising from the mud. They are the mothers, they are the fathers, They are the sisters, they are the brothers. They are the ones who should have held, But left us screaming in the hell. Monsters, monsters in the home, They are the ghosts that roam alone. They were once children, just like me, With hopes and dreams and purity. But life, that cruel and twisted thief, It stole their joy and left their grief. They grew into the monsters they, Were taught to be by night and day. And so the cycle spins and turns, And every child forever burns. And now I see them as they are— Not monsters, but a broken breed. Each one a lonely, dying star, Each one a monster in their need. They hurt because they were once hurt, They lie because they were deceived. They built this castle out of dirt, And now they mourn what they believed. Monsters, monsters in the blood, Monsters rising from the mud. But I will not become like you, I will not break the ones I knew. I will not pass the pain along, I will not sing your cruel song. Monsters, monsters, hear my plea— I will not be the one you see. I will not be the one you see. Monsters... monsters...

Ghostly Father He left when I was barely five, A silhouette against the sun. I built his image to survive, From stories told by everyone. My mother said he was not cruel, Just hollow, restless, always free. A man who played the fleeting fool, Who never truly looked at me. My grandparents filled in the rest, With fragments, whispers, faded light. They said he tried his very best, But couldn't stay to face the night. He chased the jazz, the smoky rooms, The clarinet that sang his soul. He left behind a trail of fumes, And me—a child who lost control. I painted him in golden hues, A ghost I never had to lose. But ghosts don't stay, and ghosts don't call— They drift beyond the bedroom wall. Ghostly father, phantom man, I built you with my trembling hands. You never saw me, never knew, The boy who waited just for you. Ghostly father, hear my cry— I learned to live without you, So why, oh why, do I still try? At twenty, I found where you played, A basement club of smoke and sound. I watched you from the darkest shade, While your clarinet unwound. You laughed with friends, you raised a glass, You touched the notes with tender grace. But I remained outside the glass, A stranger in that distant place. I had no wish to break the spell, No hunger for your hollow gaze. I knew you far too well to tell, That I was lost in childhood haze. So I turned and walked away, And left you in your smoky light. I had no more to do or say— You were a ghost, I was the night. But time moves on, and love moves slow, And someone else would have to know. My wife, she whispered in my ear— "Why don't you let the ghost come near?" Ghostly father, phantom man, I built you with my trembling hands. You never saw me, never knew, The boy who waited just for you. Ghostly father, hear my cry— I learned to live without you, So why, oh why, do I still try? I met you once, when I was grown, A man of flesh and blood and bone. But you were just as I had feared— Inconsistent, lost, and weird. No anger rose, no hatred burned, I simply saw what I had learned. You were the ghost I always knew, And I was done with chasing you. You died alone, I heard the news, A decade gone, a life of blues. I felt no sorrow, just a sigh, For all the years that passed us by. No rage, no tears, no final plea— Just quiet grief for what could be. We never spoke, we never shared, A father's love I never bared. Ghostly father, phantom man, I built you with my trembling hands. But now I see you were a ghost, The one I needed—and then lost. Ghostly father, set me free, I am no longer what you see. I am the son who learned to stand, Without your shadow, without your hand. Ghostly father... ghostly father... I am not your son anymore...

Lonely Dragons The old man hunts his pleasure still, A hungry ghost in faded skin. He chased the warmth from hill to hill, And left his kingdom cold within. His crown is rust, his throne is dust, His concubines were brief and cheap. He gave his blood no more than lust, And now he reaps what he did reap. And she—the matriarch of stone— She took the boy when no one watched. Her hollow heart, her brittle bone, Consumed the child she should have watched. She had no love, she had no grace, The world had turned its back on her. So she devoured what she could taste, And made the innocent concur. They wear their masks, they play their roles, They are the kings of broken souls. And we, the children, bear the weight, Of every lie, of every fate. Lonely dragons breathing fire, Burning everything they see. Lonely dragons, cruel and tired, Feeding on the family tree. They tear the branches, scorch the leaves, And leave the roots to rot and grieve. Lonely dragons—can't you see? You are the plague you could not be. The uncle—black hole in the room— He sucks the air from every lung. A narcissist who thrives on doom, Whose every word is poison tongue. He feeds on tears, he drinks despair, He twists the truth to suit his game. And those who fall into his snare Are never, ever quite the same. And father—distant, cold, and vain— He never had the time to see. His children were a passing strain, A footnote in his vanity. He loved himself, he loved his name, He loved the mirror's sweet reply. But when we called, he never came— He let his own reflection lie. They wear their crowns, they tell their lies, They watch us wither as we die. And still we search for someone true— But all we find is more of you. Lonely dragons breathing fire, Burning everything they see. Lonely dragons, cruel and tired, Feeding on the family tree. They tear the branches, scorch the leaves, And leave the roots to rot and grieve. Lonely dragons—can't you see? You are the plague you could not be. And now I see them as they are— Not monsters, but a broken breed. Each one a lonely, fading star, Each one a dragon in their need. They hurt because they were once hurt, They lie because they were deceived. They built this castle out of dirt, And now they mourn what they believed. Lonely dragons, hear my voice— I will not be your sacrifice. I will not make your evil choice, I will not pay your bitter price. You are the fire, I am the rain, You are the wound, I am the pain— But I will rise above your flame, And never be the same. Never the same. Lonely dragons... lonely dragons... I am not your dragon anymore...

Five years old, I watched you leave, A silhouette against the door. You left behind a wound that breathes, A bruise that will not fade, no more. And she—my mother, cold and pale— Would tell me I was never planned. A mistake, a broken nail, A burden she could not withstand. But now I'm gone, I've built my walls, She calls me every single day. Her voice still echoes through these halls, There is no running, no escape. Toxic family, you poisoned me, With every word, with every plea. You broke my bones, you stole my soul, You left me empty, left me cold. I am the ghost you made of me, Toxic family. My grandmother, a queen of stone, Her heart a vault of bitter steel. My grandfather, he walked alone, His love was never truly real. He chased the night, he chased the thrill, While she grew harder, sharp and thin. And all the while, I watched them kill Whatever light there was within. I tried to build a life, a name, But she was always in my head. Her voice, her shame, her endless blame— She made my future hers instead. Toxic family, you poisoned me, With every word, with every plea. You broke my bones, you stole my soul, You left me empty, left me cold. I am the ghost you made of me, Toxic family. And then I see—through mist and haze— We are not special, we are all the same. Every family wears its mask, Every home a hidden flame. The fathers leave, the mothers grieve, The children rot, the elders weave Their tangled webs of silent lies, Behind the curtain, no one cries. The world unfolds like waking dread, A nightmare spinning in my head. We are the children of the fall, We are the echoes, we are all... Toxic family, you poisoned me, You are the world, you are the sea, You are the sky, you are the grave, There is no shelter, no one to save. I am the ghost, I am the stain, I am the sorrow, I am the pain— But what am I without your chains? What am I? What am I? What am I...? Toxic family... toxic world... Where do I go now...?

By The Sea by FRED STZ

The Tide Takes All She walks the salt-worn path, her bones like driftwood dry, Her hands that held a thousand tasks now tremble at the sky. The house behind is full of ghosts—of meals, of tears, of bread, Of children's voices turned to stone inside her weary head. The doctor's words, a hollow bell, still echo in her chest, This cage of flesh that fails her now, this body's long unrest. She feels the years like heavy coats, each one a fading scar, And love—that bright and cruel ship—has sailed so very far. Oh, take me, tide, take all of me— The names, the hurts, the memory. Scrub my skin with salt and foam, Unmake this woman, bring her home. Where nothing is, and nothing was, And all is water, all is thus. She stands where sand meets endless grey, her shadow thin as thread, And watches as the waves erase the footprints she has spread. She thinks of him—that careless man, his promises like sand, Who swore the moon would never wane, then slipped from her command. She thinks of all the silent wars, the words she could not say, The dreams she drowned in laundry piles, the love she gave away. Her body aches, her spirit cracks, her beauty now a ghost, But here, the sea remembers not—it loves its children most. Oh, take me, tide, take all of me— The names, the hurts, the memory. Scrub my skin with salt and foam, Unmake this woman, bring her home. Where nothing is, and nothing was, And all is water, all is thus. Oh, take me, tide, take all that's left— The grief, the rage, the sweet regret. I am not she who bore such weight, I am the shore, I am the strait. I am the foam, I am the spray, I am the night that eats the day. And in the deep, where light must fall, There is no woman—there is all.

L'Éveil des Profondeurs Noires by FRED STZ

The Naked Deep by FRED STZ

Stuart Jenkins (The Keeper of the Strange Crate) by FRED STZ

The Great Weaver's Kiss by FRED STZ

The Dream Eater by FRED STZ

The Ink and the Dust by FRED STZ

MI6 Operation Occult by FRED STZ

The haunting spider by FRED STZ

Oscar is back in London by FRED STZ

« Nocturne » n’est pas une chanson. C’est une porte qui grince doucement sur une nuit qui n’a jamais vraiment pris fin. Ce premier morceau de l’album ne cherche pas à effrayer. Il s’installe, comme une ombre au coin d’une rue, comme le parfum de tabac froid dans un salon vide. Il est l’instant suspendu entre le dernier verre de gin et le premier soupçon de l’indicible.

Vote for the Felon by FRED STZ

Red Light, Green Light by FRED STZ

Cycle of pain by FRED STZ

No fucking war by FRED STZ

Scumbag by FRED STZ

The New Order by FRED STZ

Neon Junkie Dream Dealer by FRED STZ

Breeding Material by FRED STZ

Stupid People Famous by FRED STZ

Death Race by FRED STZ

Lethal Pursuit by FRED STZ

Excitatio Malefica by FRED STZ

L'assemblée des ombres by FRED STZ

Avant le Grand Réveil by FRED STZ

Le Chant du Sommeil Sacré by FRED STZ

Kurudi Asili by FRED STZ

UZIMA WA NDOTO by FRED STZ

RITUAL OF THE FORGOTTEN by FRED STZ

USIKU WA ROHO by FRED STZ

NOCTURNE FOR LOST SOULS by FRED STZ

The city sweats in its concrete skin The asphalt breathes the fever in The poor fan flames with broken fans While the rich adjust their golden plans The children run through rivers of dust The old ones crumble, turn to rust But high above in crystal towers The cool air falls like chemical flowers They built a world of heat and greed Then fled the fire they helped to feed They breathe the cold they stole from grace And leave the rest to burn in place The thermocrat says I am the air While the city chokes on his despair He rides the storms he helped to make And buys the silence of the lake The poor dig graves with their own breath The rich are cool in the face of death The heat will rise, the seas will claim But the rich will move and stay the same The farmer cries for ancient rain The banker smiles at the hurricane He bets on floods, he trades on drought And counts the dead to even out The factory hums, the children cough The worker's lungs are wearing off But in the shade of private jets They sip their guilt and have no debts They say we all are in this fight But some are cool and some alight Some are in the cooling breeze Some are on their melting knees They sell us carbon, sell us air They sell the future we don't dare To see the truth inside the frost That the rich have never truly lost The thermocrat says I am the air While the city chokes on his despair He rides the storms he helped to make And buys the silence of the lake The poor dig graves with their own breath The rich are cool in the face of death The heat will rise, the seas will claim But the rich will move and stay the same So raise your hands to the burning sky The cool air is a wealthy lie We built this fire with our own chains And now the cool air feeds the flames Of the thermocrat the air of shame

**"PROCESSION"** Come, little lambs, the market's warm Your labour is your uniform I'll trade your breath for silver coins And sell your silence to the noise The factories hum a lullaby For every mother's starving cry Your children's hands are made for screens To build the world of golden dreams You think your soul is yours to keep? I'll sell it while you're fast asleep The price is right – the debt is kind Just leave your conscience far behind Hallelujah for the endless sale The oceans rise – but we prevail Hallelujah for the final hour The planet dies – but we have power Hallelujah for the sacrifice Your death is progress – isn't that nice? The earth will burn – the stars will fade But we made profit from the grave The forests fall – they make good desks For anxious minds in corporate nests The rivers dry – they serve our thirst For bottled dreams of plastic birth Your children will consume the ash And thank the brands for every crash They'll wear the shoes of melted ice And call it virtue – call it price Do not weep for what you lose The system needs your weary muse Your blood is oil – your bones are coal Your sacrifice will make us whole The Piper plays – you follow blind He leads you to the end of mind And all of you who cry and bleed Are just the product – yes, the seed Hallelujah for the final sale The seas are dead – but we prevail Hallelujah for the final spree The world is yours – but not for free Hallelujah for the human race You vanish now without a trace The earth will cool, the stars will spin But we'll be counting – from within So go, my children, go and buy Your death is waiting – do not cry The Piper's tune was made of gold Your fate was written long ago In spreadsheets, ledgers, profit-margins blind And I was kind... I was so kind...