Birds carry messages.
Trees carry growth.
Glass carries light.
Crow carries the tree.
I carry the songs.
This is a place for songs and words that come from being alive.
Grief, joy, anger, humor, dreaming — all of it belongs here.
You don’t have to read everything.
You don’t have to understand it all.
Pick the song that looks back at you.
If you don’t know where to start - this is a soft landing
→ Blue Jay Says Speak
A song about finding your voice, interrupting fear, and letting sound move again.
Listener favorite below - most streamed
→ Crow
A witness song about grief, memory, and the parts of us that refuse to disappear.
Thanks for landing here.
May your feet find their next step without rushing.
A little crow’s on the wire, keeping watch over you.
Baby God Armor — Lyrics
Built from the oldest protection ritual in the book and remixed through chaos magick, it’s what happens when prayer gets a beat drop. Cleanses your field, reboots your will, and leaves you humming like a freshly saged modem.. Side effects may include clarity, laughter, and spontaneous boundary upgrades. A devotional you can dance to—equal parts spell, sweat, and serotonin.
3. SMOTHERER (The Empress) — Lyrics From Upcoming FVNERAL Album
She fed until she disappeared. This song digs into the ghost that calls care survival and love a form of control. It’s from FVNERAL, my ritual album about burying the false selves built to stay alive. A confession for anyone who gave until they broke—who mistook devotion for proof. It’s what happens when nurture turns to need, when the meal becomes a prayer, and the giver finally eats first.
The Cross + The Pentagram – Lyrics
This blog opens the ritual body of The Cross + Pentagram, a somatic alt-rap track that reclaims two sacred symbols from fear and misuse. It teaches the body how to mark itself holy using breath, chant, and touch—turning trauma into shield, and memory into flame. This is a nervous system anthem disguised as a rap song. It’s a map back to your altar—yourself.
Crow - Lyrics
This one isn’t a song. It’s a spell. I wrote it for every part of me that never got the funeral, never got the scream. Crow is the witness. The mirror. The scream in sky-shape. She remembers what the world tried to forget. I gave her my ache. She gave it wings. If you’ve ever swallowed your truth to keep the peace—she’s circling for you.
I Can’t Make You Happy - Lyrics
This one ripped itself out of me. It’s the truth I swallowed for years. I wrote this inside the guilt—while it still had claws in my throat. It names the lie of being “nice.” Of being liked for staying silent. It’s not about blame—it’s about reclamation. I can’t make them happy. I was never meant to. I’m with me now.
I AM ALFIE (THE BLACK PIG INSIDE) – Lyrics
A stuffed pig named Alfie once offered comfort. Now she returns as black flame, bent-eared and unashamed. This is the lyric blog for I Am Alfie (The Black Pig Inside)—a ritual of hunger reclaimed, rage remembered, and softness reborn in mud. Shame becomes drumbeat. Craving becomes law. The girl who danced in secret doesn’t ask anymore. She stomps. She wants. She stays.
BECAUSE I SAID SO – Lyrics
This song is my reckoning. BECAUSE I SAID SO came from the gap between how I was showing up and who I wanted to be. It’s the sound of me catching myself mid-script, mid-yell, mid-trigger—and choosing something different. I didn’t write this from theory—I wrote it from the floor, holding the weight of my own voice.
FUNERAL SELFIE – Post the Grief. Bury the Ghost.
This blog reveals the grief ritual behind FUNERAL SELFIE, a scream with eyeliner and dirt in her teeth. It breaks down what “cringe” really is—a flinch, a body-based shame pattern, and a ghost that feeds on silence. With lyrics, body-spell ritual, and affirmation, this piece invites you to rake the shame, name the pain, and post the proof. You’ll leave with dirt under your nails and your voice intact.
I AM THE RAKE – Lyrics
This is what I wrote instead of screaming.
The rake moved what my mouth couldn’t say.
It dug through the grief I didn’t name—but still felt, still carried, still almost passed on.
It’s a rhythm for the ones who inherited the storm and chose to break the cycle with their body.
Not against the ones who came before—but for them.
For the love that was buried beneath duty.
For the softness that never got spoken.
I swing to clear space for that.
This is how I till the field and return with love.
✦ THE ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH ✦ – Lyrics
This is the birth story of our son—and of every truth born through pain. It’s blood, breath, and the kind of scream that cracks the ceiling. It’s about staying present when the world goes primal. Whether you’re birthing a child, a self, a truth, or a timeline, this is the anthem for that threshold.
COME | BE | YOU — A Tantrum Gospel for the Loud Ones - Lyrics
COME | BE | YOU is a war cry for the kids who were told to sit still and shut up. It’s a lyrical gospel for the weirdos, the rage-born, the ones who survived by getting loud. This blog unpacks the fire beneath the noise, the sacred scream that saves lives, and the rite of reclaiming your uncaged voice. The song is both a spell and a sermon—an anthem for those ready to make their chaos holy.
🔥 THE FIRE NEVER SLEPT – Lyrics
This blog is a body spell disguised as a song breakdown.
It tells the truth about suppressed rage, sacred pain, and how pretending you're fine makes your body scream louder.
I wrote this track from the heat of chronic tension, back pain, and the quiet sickness of saying yes too long.
This isn't a meltdown—it's a remembering.
If you’ve ever swallowed your fire to stay safe, this is your permission to erupt on purpose.
SOCIAL SICKNESS – Lyrics
This blog unpacks the lyrics to “Social Sickness,” a truth-spell disguised as a song. It explores what happens when your body says no before you do—through sore throats, gut pain, fatigue, and post-event crashes. Drawing from somatic wisdom and real-life experience, it turns shame into signal and illness into insight. Readers will learn how to decode their own body’s no, cancel with power, and reclaim their sacred boundaries.
Bless Their Hearts - Lyrics
Bless Their Hearts is me catching my own tongue mid-swing.
It’s what happened when I stopped venting and started asking: why am I saying this?
Every line is a reckoning with my own projections—where I turned pain into poison and called it clarity.
I wrote this one in the quiet after the insult, where the shame sits. Where the mirror doesn’t blink.
This track isn’t about forgiving them.
It’s about facing me.
It’s about learning to speak without bleeding.
To name without blame.
To let go of the story that made me feel powerful by making someone else small.
This is what it sounds like when I clean my mouth and bless their name.
You're Holy (And You Forgot) - Lyrics
This piece is a lyrical reclamation spell for anyone who’s been made to shrink, silence themselves, or forget their sacredness. It’s a spoken mirror—a chant wrapped in rhythm—to remind you of your worth when the world taught you to question it. Born from nervous system healing and emotional clarity, this song brings affirmation to the places that felt abandoned. You don’t need to earn your return. You just need to remember.
Nice is the Disease - Lyrics
This blog dissects the sickness of being “nice” when it costs you your truth. It reveals how fawning, false guilt, and boundaryless compassion get mistaken for love—and how that performance poisons the soul. Through raw story and lyrics, it offers a way out: back to self-trust, clear boundaries, and connection that doesn’t require self-erasure. You’ll walk away knowing the difference between real care and holy contortion.