charissa-cruz-209254509 timeless feel🔥, you need real fans, we got you check the page

🎧 Song Insight: "Yeah...."
A fogged-up windshield. Static on the stereo. Two kids in silence, smoke curling through unspoken things. “Yeah....” isn’t just a mood—it’s a memory trapped in the backseat, where time slows down and even failure feels poetic. A blend of spoken confessions and low, haunting melodies, this song captures that liminal space between not caring and caring too much. For anyone who ever skipped school, lit up with shaking fingers, or tried to disappear into the right song—this is your moment, frozen in reverb.

🎙️ Lyrics

[Verse 1]
My song is skipping
Didn't miss a beat
Never worked
That adapter was cheap

[Verse 2]
In the back seat by the window
Watching smoke curl around his fingers
Thinking that would be neat
I watched as the ash fell just to see
He was looking at me
I turned away and took a drag
Pretended I was mad

[Verse 3]
Shit—I forgot to do my homework
Still half-stoned from last night
We stayed up all night on the phone

Didn’t matter
It’s too late
I was already failing
Wished he’d just give up

[Interlude]

[Verse 4]
But the world being wrong didn’t matter
My song was on
In that moment...
nothing was wrong
Even if it was just for a second
Everything could feel right

[Bridge]
It was my film
A cinematic scene
Some other show
on some other planet

[Verse 5]
But you knew—it was you
You were the star
And as the camera pulled back
you looked past your reflection
past the weight of one more mistake
you weren’t ready to let go

[Outro:Extended]
The words flood your head
We’re supposed to be young
We’re supposed to be dumb
We’re supposed to sing along
to another fucking song


💭 Artist Reflection
I didn’t write this song. I remembered it. Or maybe it remembered me.
This isn’t a fantasy or a metaphor—it’s what it felt like to be almost invisible but still alive.
You didn’t need plot back then. You just needed someone to pick you up and not ask questions.
We didn't have therapy—we had the right cassette.

🔊 About 4Me2BeFree
4Me2BeFree is a memory loop you forgot you recorded—half nostalgia, half raw nerve. Every track is a cinematic echo of a life still healing in real-time.

© Copyright
All lyrics and content featured in this post are protected under copyright (© 2025) and have been securely time-locked and validated through a crypto-based verification system to ensure originality and ownership. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of any part of these works without explicit consent is strictly prohibited.

Yeah.....

Nathan Pizano - vocals, guitar, bass, synths, artwork, producer

Rewind

Golden - Demo

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved
Can I be? 
Can I see? 
Con demnation 
Do unto me. 
The laws  
Of perception 
Are 
The interjection 
From 
A reflection. 
This misguided 
Inspection. 
Dissecting  
The perfection 
Performing 
The subjection 
Con demnation 
Or  
Freedom; 
The act of 
Not seeing; 
The perception  
Of being. 
The understanding 
It’s the ego’s trap. 
To see it 
Is 
To believe it. 
The illusion of 
Becoming it. 
The transference 
Of me. 
The wonderment 
Of transference. 
Becoming  
The construct’s 
Occurrence. 
This is not 
My original thinking. 
Its influenced by 
The past 
And what 
I’m believing. 
The timeless  
Intrinsic jumping 
The drama of 
Something. 
So 
The thinking  
Keeps running. 
I can see 
With forgiveness. 
The law of 
Perception 
Is with us. 
Eeny meeny 
Miney moe – 
Catch a tiger 
By the toe – 
In fact- 
Will the truth 
Ever show? 
If you forgive, 
You will know.

The Drama of Something

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Surrender to be free. 
Captured by the thinking 
Inside me. 
Wrapped in my 
Own fear 
As I blame. 
The thoughts in me, 
are the same. 
This is a mind  
untamed. 
Reflecting the bane. 
I must forgive 
To be free 
Of perpetual specialness 
From a  
Misguided consciousness. 
Me trying to 
outthink  
The world that 
Seems to not be free. 
Do I know 
The difference of 
A misguided voice? 
Or a voice in 
the stillness 
Hallowed by love 
That guides me 
To my true will. 
That intrinsically remembers, 
A principal in a 
premise that’s spiritual. 
Take my will 
Take my life 
Show me reality 
In the light. 
Not denied through 
A false device 
That divides. 
I come to this place 
To receive 
The divine blessing 
And help me 
To understand 
What is the lesson. 
To decompress 
Nevertheless 
What seems to 
Make me guess. 
While transfixed 
And possessed. 
A placement 
In a mess 
Don’t repress 
But depress 
With the intention 
To coalesce  
And acquiesce 
As we reassess 
These mental effects 
And know the truth 
Is what will 
Come next.

Untamed Mind

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

And yet, 
How did we forget? 
Space and time 
Please don’t leave 
Me behind. 
Locked in a cell 
The attempt  
To make  
My mind blind. 
The light in me 
Is there to see. 
As the world 
Trying 
Subjugation of me 
Humiliation ; 
Exploitation ; 
Domination ; 
Integration ; 
Segregation ; 
Dévastation ; 
Isolation ; 
Dissociation. 
As my soul 
Witnesses 
Identification 
Of a correlation 
Transformation 
As the radiation 
From my foundation 
Becoming a divine 
Communication. 
The special grace 
Guiding a wisdom 
That takes place. 
The crisis of 
The ego. 
The arising we go. 
Descendance  
Into the soul. 
The knowledge 
That flows. 
The vast abyss 
Of my holiness. 
The oneness of grace 
Transfixing me 
Beyond my 
meager space. 
I am no longer 
A visitor  
or a spirit 
on vacation. 
My ego’s 
Nomination 
To arise from 
A cocoon’s explanation 
Grow up to  
Show up 
Exploration beyond 
Mortality. 
No longer 
Implored by  
The effect 
Of duality 
But a contribution 
Of humanity 
While performing 
And living 
My true reality.

Contribution to Humanity

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

From here to there 
from where to what? 
Is it a dream 
or something 
that seems? 
From value 
to valueless, 
what do we dismiss? 
An awakening 
to reality 
of the disparaging. 
The truth is written 
on the page. 
Who and what 
is going to say? 
Truth builds bridges 
to walk across, 
so we don’t fall 
In those ditches. 
As the mind continues 
with its pitches. 
Even as fire and ice 
are not so nice, 
and sticks and stone 
can break your bones. 
Nailed to a cross 
the saints are prone. 
The illusion to be 
the body we see 
Or don’t see. 
Is it really God 
that’s in me? 
Existing for 
Eternity. 
What is the belief 
in a disparaging reality? 
To follow  
Or lead, 
For my emotions  
To see? 
Or can there be 
An order of miracles? 
Is it just 
magic, I see? 
Can everyone be 
connected in consciousness? 
this Dao of infinity? 
The body is 
A vessel. 
No need to wrestle. 
The acceptance of 
The vastness 
of creation, 
is the movement 
of expression. 
Expansion of 
the capillaries  
of the form. 
Fools light fires, 
Wisemen heal. 
Let me perceive 
no differences today.

Dao of Infinity

Rest in Peace Max

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

Impermanence

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

My belief
is what I seek
The underpinning strength
or becoming weak.
Affecting my
Inveterate actions.
To degenerate
And separate.
Or
 what?
My propensity’s allegiance
To something other than
a derogation
of my being.
Is it miracles
I’m seeing?
Undoing the past
into the present
and thus releasing
the future.
An affirmation
of rebirth
past the situation.
an inspiration
opening the imagination.
Leaping through 
time’s hesitation.
A transformation
Through divine negation.
Damnation’s
Aggravation.
Miracles are the application
Bringing forth
An interpretation
Of the foundation’s creation.
Placing identifications
Observation.
My orientation
Into a new occupation.
The liberation
This declaration 
Becoming the revelation
Of obligation.
Can it be winning
me over
to what’s inside me?
Transcending the
complication of
a world and our
leader’s greed
many follow
because of how they are
trained to see.
Based in judgment
rolled with 
sorry derogation
of the hallowed.
A call on to me -
 the name 
that would be.
Finding the source
inside we.
The opportunity
to find
miracles over magic.
To facilitate a whispering
 Coming from me –
The attestation 
To give is to receive.
I’m grateful for
the teachers
that came before me.
The master 
that taught me,
the present that
exonerates me
and the future
that leads me to
the tabernacle 
Of my heart.


Miracles over Magic

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

To nurture 
To really see 
another soul. 
Not bits and pieces 
I can control, 
but the spirit 
pure and whole. 
To walk the world 
grounded 
surrounded 
by a knowing 
bestowing 
a grace 
so pure and freeing, 
my being 
begins really seeing. 
Past the form, 
past the frenetic 
unsympathetic 
laws of the world 
only meant to enslave 
cruelty on display. 
To correct a mistake 

I choose not 
To partake. 
But to wake 
to a message 
a whisper. 
I soon remember 
felt in my bones, 
a call to atone. 
To understand 
I am bound 
by my beliefs 
this is where 
I find my peace. 

Conflict resolution 
becomes my evolution 

 choose not 
To partake. 
But to wake 
to a message 
a whisper. 
I soon remember 
felt in my bones, 
a call to atone. 
To understand 
I am bound 
by my beliefs 
this is where 
I find my peace. 

Conflict resolution 
becomes my evolution 
becomes my evolution 

To understand 
Love is continuous 
It is where 
We begin 
again and again 
never to end.

A Whisper

He is my homey. 
The exemplification 
Of a betraying nomination 
As stated in his book. 
Up until the time 
he got the look. 
The guile of 
The despot crook. 
Principles seemed 
To be our nation’s dream. 
Our religion created 
A mortar of hate. 
Poisoning the media’s faith.  
Then, corporate greed 
obliged the foreign forces 
that would confiscate. 
As the truth was 
Denied, dismissed 
devalued and divorced.  
Thus our nation’s discourse. 
The world on what? 
Sup, sup, sup with that? 
A divine intervention 
as fine.  
Ice and H S I  
This be a  
bizarre contest.  
Justice return 
To love at best. 
I am not afraid 
of love nor death 
but I will continue 
to take my next breath. 
Justice through miracles 
That I receive, you give. 
Each one, becomes 
law where salvation rests. 
Not leaving us with less. 
As I was a child, 
A boy, looking upon 
The faces,  not aware 
of my own disgrace. 
Just looking at 
what was shown, 
sin, guilt, and judgement 
not felt or repugnant. 
Guise from my eyes. 
The truth never dies. 
As my own face begins 
to focus. 
Joined with the  
ego’s hypnosis. 
Reinforced by 
My psychosis. 
Creating the bedrock 
of my neurosis. 
Once in the midst 
of the mind’s slowness 
the vision begins 
to show us. 
My sight goes forth 
to look upon 
the divine Grace’s face. 
Surpassing perception 
onto the truth 
that takes place. 

A Working Class Hero I See

We write musical poetry - a form of abstract realism - our intention is to provide our listeners with a cadence, a path to peace of mind. Stand on your purpose, Live through each day, Rest, Listen and pray. Pray for the meditative rhythm as we work and play.

A Working Class Hero I See

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