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Austin Wintory Lyrics

We have lyrics for 'Apotheosis' by these artists:

Akeldama I fall fast like nightingales in winter's cold sharp grasp …
Hour of Penance Ratio noster qui es in mentes Sanctificetur nomen tuum; Ad…
Kai Straw If I become someone else after this trust me it wasn't…
Last Chance To Reason This digital life Reformat, reprogram, rebirth We will …
Mozart Season To say that we have gotten ahead of ourselves, Is a…
Silent Stream of Godless Elegy (He must come to stone sky) Blind, I don't want to…

We have lyrics for these tracks by Austin Wintory:

No Tree Grows to the Sky Áfram, Afram, Afram, undir hrímsól! Afram. Til himna teygja …
Only the Sun Has Stopped Sólin Sólin ein hefur numið staðar. Vocals by Johann Sigurd…

The lyrics can frequently be found in the comments below, by filtering for lyric videos or browsing the comments in the different videos below.
Most interesting comments from YouTube:

Dude Man19

A short story.

I wasn't sure who I was, or where I had come from, but I knew the Mountain, and that was my goal.

My story began as every story does; at the beginning, taking baby steps to my goal. I didn't dare venture far but, frankly, I didn't need to. At that time, the path was well laid out for me.

The first time I met The Ancient, I learned what I suspected; that the Mountain was the goal of this, my Journey.

My scarf short for now, wafted gently against my back. The Fallen Bridge stood ahead, and beyond, the Mountain loomed.
Here, I think, I began to grow up. My path lay obvious in front of me, my goal beyond.
And yet, despite this, I could explore.
Scattered about the ravine, crossed by many bridges, were fragments of fallen Guardians. Old, dying Cloth fluttered from it in the gentle wind. The smaller ones, the Fish, waited inside, and helped me along when freed. They completed the bridge for me, aided me on my Journey.

But then came the Desert.
It was a time of joy and fun.
It was a time of fear and aprehension.
What came next? Over the next dune? In the next ruin? What do I do know?
The Mountain was always there, always the goal. I would skip happily with the Cloth I came across, as Dolphins now, but also the small Fish. My Scarf grew longer, and now fluttered a distance behind me. Sometimes I found my self joyful and playful. Other times, I was terrified and small. Ocasionally, I questioned the Ancestor, even the Mountain.

I met someone in the Desert. Who it was I cannot say, but they stayed with me until the end. Until the Mountain.
Finally, across many miles of the Desert, we found the Sandstorm, a foundry for Guardians. The Ancestor met with both of us, and told more of the story of what came before.

The City lay immensely before me. This was the highlight of the Journey, the staging ground for beyond. Here the Dolphins and Fish dipped playfully into the sand. Journeying. Just as we were.
To the Mountain.
To the End.
Me and my companion had become good friends now, and we dared not stray too far from the other. Or Scarfs, longer now, flapped behind us in the rushing wind. This was the golden time of the Journey. The time when nothing was wrong, and we had everything we needed. Our path was clear. We knew what to do.

And then that ended, and all was unknown.
The Ancestor spoke more of the story, of the peace.
And of the War.

The Catacombs were always dark, and little light shone through. We found havens, and Cloth that hid. It hid from us.

It hid from Others.
Beyond was the Staging Grounds of the Guardians. They loomed, gathering dust and sand.

But not all.of them were dead.

These times were times of fear, of not knowing what would happen. The Journey might have failed, for we would be trapped.
But there was still hope.

The Temple saved us from the monsters behind. The Temple harbored our light, and protected it. We were safe there, with its aid.

The Temple filled, first with the Light, then with the Cloth. Fish, Dolphins, Jellyfish, a Whale, all there, safe in the Temple. Finally, we reached the top.

We learned that the future was already history.
And that our Journey wasn't done.

Great hardship was felt on the Mountain. The wind whipped, tearing our cloth, and the cold sapped our light. Many times, we had to huddle together to survive. Graves littered the slopes.
Many other creatures were there. On the way to end their Journey.
Too many never made it.

The Mountains cold was unrelenting, and many froze in the ascent.

Still others were cast down.
Guardians patrolled the slopes, tearing apart those they found.

The climb was hard. Many times, we were frozen, attacked, and had to hide in holes, or were simply blown away.
But the Summit, oh, the Summit, the Journeys End, was to important.

The storm blew everything away; Guardians, the Cloths. Only we were left going.
We kept going
And we kept going
And we kept going
Until we weren't.

We fell into the snow. We were frozen through. We could barely move. We expected to die.

The Ancestors stood about us, watching us. They lent us what light they had.

And we flew.
Past the storms, past the cold, past the machines that sought to consume us.
We flew for the Summit.

And then we were there.

What a glorious place it was! Shining with warmth and light, overflowing with energy and life. We continued up.
And we were there.
We were at the he Mountains peak.
We did not stop.
Our destination is beyond
Was beyond.
Is here.
We were here, at the End.
And then we weren't anywhere.

Rushing, rushing, rushing. Great wind all about.
The Mountain behind, behind, behind. Going away.
The Journey in reverse. Down the Mountain, the Temple, the City, the Desert, the Bridge. The sand littered with graves. Mine wasn't there. Mine was on the Mountain.
From the End to the Beginning. The reverse of all stories. Yours, mine, the worlds. Beginning to End, and back again.
Almost there, almost. No memory, only purpose, only will.

The Journey lay ahead.

I wasn't sure who I was, or where I had come from, but I knew the Mountain, and that was my goal.

Pepito Bât

@Ilhan Rogel Art, just like beauty, is very subjective.

Sometimes, art is meant to talk about complicated stuff, new (or old) ideas explored from someone else's point of view.
Sometimes, art is meant to be history, and a way to remember.
Sometimes, art is meant to show our devotion to a cause, and to celebrate that cause.
And sometimes, it's only meant to be beautiful.

People consider this art, because, to them, it's just that beautiful. The music is independently beautiful. The visuals, too. And the use of interactivity in Journey is something very special. All of it combined in a single experience might be enough to consider it art.

There's no explaining why people consider something beautiful : it CAN NOT be explained, by definition.

Catherine Towers

I remember guiding a small red cloak, unexperienced, I could tell, clumsily following me like a lost cub looking for its mother, but I guided them on nonetheless. I remember looking at the screen and thinking two things when we reached the end

1. "Is this what being a teacher/parent feels like?"

2. "You did it little guy, you made it!"

Username was A-J (something) I should really start writing down usernames so I never forget them

* crying in the background ensues *

All comments from YouTube:


The only multiplayer that makes you like the person on the other side.

The Senate

I actually found my companion on Steam.

Mλtheus S

@Jasta Gai true dat man

Mλtheus S

@Cariño aesthetic ikr, i just made my 10 year old cousin finish the game last saturday XD. Teaching the young good things haha.

Cariño aesthetic

@Jasta Gai true

Cariño aesthetic

@Mλtheus S dude were desame I just bought this game last Friday XD it's Sooo stunning

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Journey : The first walking simulator to make me cry

Purwanti Allan

@Fujimoto Sayomi Abzu and Final Fantasy 7 also.


Walking-flying-chirping-sliding simulator

A.S. Bijral

@Niklaus Steffanmullen and I'm guessing you were Jesuschrist at one point of time, also maybe you were dumb enough to shut down the game in first fifteen minutes.

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