Lyrics
[Spoken - close mic, dry, no reverb until the end]
Brothers. Sisters. Salt-starved sinners.
We had an ocean once. Before the corporations drank it. Before the pipelines sucked it dry and left us with this dust.
[pause]
I remember water. Cold on my feet. The smell of it. The taste. Now I taste blood. My own. Yours. Doesn't matter.
[pause]
They say the waves are gone. They say surf's down forever. But look closer.
What's that rising on the horizon? Not water. Bodies. Stacked high. And when they fall—
[Band explodes - shouted/sung]
—THEY MAKE A CURL!
THEY MAKE A BREAK!
I'LL RIDE YOUR CORPSE
TO THE DEEP RED WAKE!
[Spoken - now with reverb, manic, faster]
They took the ocean. So we became the ocean. Every Psycho a wave. Every axe a paddle. Every skull a buoy marking the reef of the guilty.
[Building intensity]
HANG TEN FOR SATAN!
[10 seconds of chaotic surf punk - drums, fuzz guitar, screaming]
[Abrupt silence. Then, whispered:]
Amen.
Details
GeneratedApr 16, 2026
Duration1:13
LanguageEnglish
Style
Surf Rock, male, spoken word, · Key: D minor
· Tempo: 120 BPM (steady, pulsing like a heartbeat)
Credits
Prompt by
AsheTheHyena
AsheTheHyenaModelAria v5.5
