BURNING CHOIRS - Tripmillawire (Official Audio) | New Music 2026

Описание: "A man don't ascend without facing what followed him into the sky."

Burning Choirs is the next chapter in the Tripmillawire Musical Journey. From the subzero hours of the Northland to the fires of resurrection, this is for anyone who was told they were broken and realized they were actually being forged.


Yeah…
You thought the story ended at the Northstar…
But a man don’t ascend without facing
what followed him into the sky…
Let me talk to ’em…

I came up frozen, Minnesota-bred,
Snowflakes hittin’ like bullets to the head.
Whole life felt like a battlefield bed,
Woke up fightin’ demons even angels fled.

Nighttime voices still circle my feet,
Wind talk back when the city won’t speak.
Got frostbite scars where the hope used to be,
Heart so cold I could winter the sea.

Seen good men die for a lil’ respect,
Bad men thrive with a chain on they neck.
Saints fall down when they fail the test,
But the wicked keep standin’ like they heaven’s guest.

I ain’t playin’ with the ghosts or the fear no more,
I done swung at the dark ’til my knuckles sore.
Every wound I carry got a story to pour—
Every tear? Yeah, that’s gasoline I store.

Burning choirs of the Northland sing,
“Boy, rise higher, let the cold wind sting.”
Every scar you carved is a northern ring—
A halo made of violence, a reborn king.

Burning choirs of the Northland roar,
“Walk that fire, let your wings restore.”
You lived through hell—now the heavens implore:
Get up.
You’re built for more.

Cold days, cold nights, no light, no rest,
Had to crawl through the ice with the pain on my chest,
Had to fight through the lies with a blade in my breath,
Had to stare in the mirror like, “Boy, you next.”

No love in the street, just hunger,
No peace in the home, just thunder.
Mama prayin’ for the storms to go under,
But pops stay drunk and he rumble like lumber.

So I ran—
Ran from the fist, from the fear, from the sins,
Ran from the child I was lockin’ within,
Ran ’til the frostbites turned to my kin,
Ran ’til the wind screamed: “Boy, step in!”

Step in the fire, step in the rage,
Burn up the hurt, burn down the cage,
Write your survival on every page,
Make your trauma your goddamn wage.

Now I’m comin’ out the smoke like a resurrected soldier,
Pain on my shoulders but the burden made me bolder.
Heart grew heavy, then the world grew colder—
But the cold just meant the fight ain’t over.



Burning choirs of the Northland sing,
“Boy, rise higher, let the cold wind sting.”
Every scar you carved is a northern ring—
A halo made of violence, a reborn king.

Burning choirs of the Northland roar,
“Walk that fire, let your wings restore.”
You lived through hell—now the heavens implore:
Get up.
You’re built for more.

You ever hear the wind talk to you?
Tell you you’re more than the damage?
Tell you your broken bones are blueprints?
Tell you scars ain’t shame…
They’re roadmaps.
And your heart?
That ain’t cracked—
That’s open.


Cold wind breathin’ down my spine again,
But I’ve grown immune to the life of men
Who fold under pressure—nah, not I, my friend,
I done danced in the dark just to rise again.

Every broken promise? Fuel.
Every lost soul? School.
Every wound I stitched with a jagged tool
Just taught me kingdoms come from the brutal.

Now I’m standin’ where the lost get crowned,
Where the hurt get healed, where the dead resound.
Where the angels whisper, “You held your ground,”
And the devils bow low ’cause they know you’re found.

So I’m raisin’ up my torch in the northern air,
Lighting up the sky for the kids out there
Who feel too broken, too bruised, too scared—
This is proof:
You can climb from anywhere.

Burning choirs of the Northland sing,
“Boy, rise higher, let the cold wind sting.”
Every scar you carved is a northern ring—
A halo made of violence, a reborn king.

Burning choirs of the Northland roar,
“Walk that fire, let your wings restore.”
You lived through hell—now heaven keeps score:
Stand tall.
You’re built for war.

Yeah…
Northland don’t raise no coward!!
Only kings in the subzero hours.