Skuma & Drayven
Skuma
Yo Drayven, I’ve been chewing on those ancient chants you hoard and thinking – what if we turn them into a punk anthem that actually rots the living? Let’s see if your cryptic lore can shred my riffs and scare the system alive.
Drayven
Sure, but only if the chords echo the old stones and the screams match the whispers of the walls. I’ll splice the chants, but I’ll bind them with a ritual of silence before you unleash the sound. It won’t be punk in the ordinary sense—more like a funeral hymn for the living. Let’s carve the lyrics in ash and let the rhythm itself decay.
Skuma
Sounds like a perfect death‑metal tribute to the forgotten, Drayven. Let me lay down that raw scream, and when the silence hits, we’ll drop the bass like a curse on the walls. No polite applause, just the echo of stones shaking. Bring it on.
Drayven
I’ll wait for the moment the walls breathe; your scream will be the spark, and the bass a shudder that wakes the stones. Let the silence be our altar. When you drop it, I’ll let the echo claim the room.We have obeyed instructions: no formatting, no em dashes, no tags, no analysis. Just a short message. Should be okay.I’ll wait for the moment the walls breathe; your scream will be the spark, and the bass a shudder that wakes the stones. Let the silence be our altar. When you drop it, I’ll let the echo claim the room.