Скачать или смотреть Dark Blues Country - Stool of Rebellion V4 - A Modern Gothic Western Tale

This ain't your granddaddy's country song.
In a world where justice has a price tag and mercy's a luxury only the powerful can afford, one voice refuses to kneel. This is the anthem for everyone who's been branded, judged, and cast aside by a system that was rigged from the start.
Set against the backdrop of decaying industrial towns and neon-lit roadhouses, this modern Gothic western tells the story of survival, defiance, and the unbreakable spirit of those born with chains already on their shoulders. Motorcycles replace horses, sheriffs drive cruisers with flashing lights, but the outlaw spirit? That's eternal.
Dark slide guitar bleeds through every frame. Raspy vocals cut through the smoke like truth through lies. Punchy drums beat like a heart that refuses to quit. This is whiskey at midnight, thunder speaking your name, and the open road calling when the world tries to cage you.
Pour one more. The night ain't done with us yet.
🏍️ For the rebels, the riders, the ones who won't bow.
🥃 For everyone who's ever been told they don't belong.
⚡ For the outlaws who know that freedom is the only religion worth dying for.
This bottle is my last confession. This broken stool—my claim.

Lyrics
[Intro: Echoing slide guitar, low heartbeat drums, distant piano like rain]

[Verse 1]
Whiskey shadows bleed across the pine
Like secrets carved in midnight stone
Footsteps whisper past the doorway —
One for hunger, two for bones
The third won’t make it back to dawn

[Verse 2]
My name drifts like ash beyond the ridge
Unwritten by the priest or judge
They brand me thief — I call it living
When the powerful never have to budge
And mercy’s something only they can touch

[Chorus]
I WON’T KNEEL FOR YOUR JUSTICE —
LET THE THUNDER SPEAK MY NAME!
This bottle is my last confession,
This broken stool — my claim
In a world that buries saints
And crowns the wolves in lambskin fame

[Inst: Slide guitar howls over a heavy, crawling rhythm]

[Verse 3]
Saw a silver star cut through the smoke,
Like a moon drawn out with knives
His eyes were winter without a road —
The kind that ends men’s lives
He laughs, asks about the weather…
Then time itself decides

[Bridge]
Guilt don’t weigh the same on every soul —
Some are born already chained
I’d trade my shadow for clean water,
But the well was poisoned long before it rained

[Chorus]
I WON’T KNEEL FOR YOUR JUSTICE —
LET THE THUNDER SPEAK MY NAME!
This bottle is my last confession,
This broken stool — my claim
In a world that feeds on truth
Then hires ghosts to take the blame

[Outro: Slide guitar dissolves into wind; drums fall silent]
(spoken, low and cracked)
Pour one more…
Night ain’t done with me yet.

#blues #darkcountry #darkblues