Gabriel Grey

This album is a haunted house built from memory, ritual, and survival. Each track opens a different locked room: mirrors that fracture identity, rewrites that trap conversations in endless loops, cellars where silence sings, character sheets that turn mental health into game mechanics, smiles borrowed from masks, voices that whisper possession, and agreements reshaped into scars that become purpose.

The songs move between alt rock intensity and lyrical confession, weaving horror imagery with the raw language of anxiety, depression, and resilience. Paper cranes, static halls, crawlspaces, and broken mirrors become symbols of how the mind bends reality, while choruses burn with defiance against invisibility.

This is not an album about perfection or healing. It is about persistence, about naming the demons that live within, about finding rhythm in the static and light in the fracture. On paper it is survival, in sound it is testimony.