
A story
Something happened. Start there.
A memory, told the way you'd tell it to somebody in a kitchen. Nothing shaped, nothing rhymed.

Turn stories into songs.Prove when they were yours.
CREATE AN ACCOUNT. BRING A STORY.
01 — Before the song
Nobody sits down and writes a chorus. They remember something, and it won't leave them alone. Coroas takes the raw thing — however it arrives.

Something happened. Start there.
A memory, told the way you'd tell it to somebody in a kitchen. Nothing shaped, nothing rhymed.

Bring the lines you already have.
Two good lines and a chorus you don't trust yet. We keep your phrases and build around them.

Say it before you overthink it.
Talk into your phone on the drive home. We'll transcribe it and find what you were circling.

02 — The heart
Before a single line is written, Coroas names the one true thing underneath what you brought in. If the heartline is wrong, nothing after it can be right — so you get to see it first, and argue with it.
What came in
I hadn't been back in nineteen years. It was past eleven when I turned off the state road and the porch light was on. Nobody's lived in that house since March.
The heart
“You left to get out from under that house, and the thing that finally undid you was finding out it had been waiting up.”
03 — The room
The architecture, laid out and reorderable. Verse, chorus, the bridge where you finally admit it.
Three to six real observations, each with something to do about it. No score out of a hundred.
Approximate syllable counts per line, and the rhyme families you're actually leaning on — slant rhymes included.
A simple harmonic sketch in numbers and in chords, with transpose. A starting point, not a recording.
Five other titles. Two other choruses. A quieter version. A more direct one. Only when you ask.
Version 3 · Still On
But the porch light was still on,
and nobody's been home since the spring.
I sat there in the driveway with it running
The porch light was still on.
Cut to the bone
That simile is the one abstract thing in a concrete song. Trade it for what he actually does: hands on the wheel, radio off, foot still on the brake.
04 — The receipt
When a version matters, Coroas computes a fingerprint of it on your device and writes only that fingerprint to Solana. A Songprint is a timestamp anyone can check.
Your lyrics never leave your device for this. Not the words, not the story, not the recording — only a 64-character hash that means nothing to anyone who doesn't already have the song.
Songprint is cryptographic evidence that a fingerprint was timestamped onchain. It is not a copyright registration or determination of authorship or ownership.
Songprint
Version 3
Anyone can recompute this fingerprint from the version and compare it to what's onchain. If a single word changed, the hash changes.

The Porch plan is free, and three songs a day come with it. No card, no wallet — paid plans are settled in USDC when and if you want them.
05 — Plans
Bring an idea. Leave with a song.
$0
Everything you need to finish one song.
Free forever. No card, no wallet.
For songs worth staying with.
$12/ month
When one song turns into forty.
12 USDC · Solana
For writers who are always writing.
$29/ month
The whole room, every day.
29 USDC · Solana
Paid plans are settled in USDC on Solana devnet. Pick a plan, scan the QR with any wallet app, and the upgrade lands on its own — no wallet to connect, no card, nothing stored on file. Every payment is verified against the chain before anything is granted.
Limits are real numbers rather than the word “unlimited”, because generation costs real money and we would rather tell you where the edge is than surprise you at it.
06 — Notes

6 min read
Most unfinished songs aren't badly written. They're about two things at once.

5 min read
On capturing the thing while it is still shapeless, and why editing too early kills it.

7 min read
Hashes, timestamps, and a careful list of the things this does not do.