Saint of the Gun Smoke | Dark Country & Trap Latino скачать в хорошем качестве

Saint of the Gun Smoke | Dark Country & Trap Latino

“If heaven don’t speak, I’ll still assume that faith lives on where the shadows bloom.” Saint of the Gun Smoke is a thunderous Dark Country x Dark Trap — The song tells the story of a man raised in chaos, crime, and broken faith, shaped by betrayal, violence, and guilt. He walks through a cursed past full of ghosts, knives, and gun smoke, searching for redemption in a world where family failed and God was silent. In the end, he chooses to drop the gun and walk alone — not fully clean, but no longer lost. 🔥 With canyon winds, anvil slams, distorted harmonica melodies, roaring 808s, foot-stomp rhythms, steel-guitar cries, and a gritty outlaw narrator, God is not found in thunder or grand signs, but in silence, stillness, and broken places. [Lyrics] Breathin’ dust… Hear that cross swing in the wind… Smoke in my lungs, Blood on my hands, I was raised on the edge of broken lands. Cursed by my name, Shot by the sun, Still I pray for the saint of the gun. Daddy left town with the gold he stole, Mama lit candles for a haunted soul. Brother drew knives when the hunger came, Sold my shadow just to hide his shame. I’ve been chasin’ ghosts down a road of lies, With a Bible full of tears and a pocket of knives. I ride through the night like a ghost in the rain, Crosses in the dirt know the weight of my pain. Gun smoke mercy, black-winged dove, Guilt hits hard but it still feels like love. I ain’t running forever, I ain’t dying alone, I’ll carve out redemption from the sins I’ve owned. Black steel tucked in a torn black coat, Church burned down but the preacher wrote notes. Angels on my left, demons on my right, One keeps me living, one keeps me fight. Family ain’t blood when greed takes hold, Loyalty cracks when the nights get cold. I shot my past just to buy some time, But the smoke keeps rising — still stuck in my mind. I dug six holes in the desert sand, One for each promise I never could stand. Heard mama call, “Son, don’t fall too deep,” But the devil don’t rest and the lost don’t sleep. Still I drive through the towns that we tore apart, With an empty gun and a heavy heart. I ride through the night like a ghost in the rain, Crosses in the dirt know the weight of my pain. Gun smoke mercy, black-winged dove, Guilt hits hard but it still feels like love. Mama said every sinner’s got room to change, Even wolves learn prayers on the open range… I dropped my gun where the wild sun shone, Storm clouds parted and I walked alone. A little bit broken, a little bit saved, I found grace in the dust of an unmarked grave. I ain’t clean, but I ain’t lost — Every soul is worth the cost. 👉 Listen now to “Saint of the Gun Smoke” Let the ashes preach what the saints forgot before the fall. 🎧 Playlist: https://byvn.net/J9kT ✨ Subscribe to explore the world of Dark Country Music — Dark Country, where every song rides alone under a burning sky. #darkcountry #darkcountrymusic #traplatino #outlawcountry #countrymusic #darktrap --- © 2025 Gem Network. All rights reserved. An original work by Gem Network. Protected under the Berne Convention, WIPO treaties, and EU Directive 2001/29/EC. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited. 📩 contact@longhoangltd.com