A track born out of satire, not revenge.
Pot Head Keyboard Warrior / Garage Philosopher is a caricature of today’s online prophets: the self-crowned kings of garages and comment sections, who preach strength while drowning in bitterness. It’s not about one man—it’s about an attitude. A mirror held up to the cult of superficial red-pill wisdom, toxic projections, and the empty noise of keyboard battles.

This is for anyone who’s tired of empty rants and fake gurus. Dark, raw, and bitter like unsweetened chocolate—served with no sugar.


[Hook / Chorus]

Pot head keyboard warrior – (say it loud!)
Garage philosopher, csak a füst marad.
Életed falak közt, rideg monológ,
Keserűbb, mint száz kávé, cukor nélkül, bro! (no sugar!)

[Verse 1 – Projection King]

Tükörben látod magad, de rám köpöd a szót,
Minden sebed rajtam landol, mintha én lennék a pót.
Te vagy a bíró, te vagy a vádló,
De a színpadod egy kanapé, meg a laptop glow. (pathetic!)

[Verse 2 – Millionaire Fantasy vs. Reality]

[Verse 2 – Millionaire Fantasy vs. Reality]

Mondod: milliókat csináltam volna – (yeah, right!)
A tizenév nulla meló, csak a smoke meg a spite.
Munkából kidobba többször is,
Te vagy az álomgyáros, csak nincs credit, nincs hit. (wake up!)

[Verse 3 – Women Obsession]

“Nem kellenek nők!” – közben minden szavad pina,
Ez nem erő, ez a seb, ami sose gyógyul, hiba.
Tizenöt év nuku érintés, “I’m strong!” – nah, weak,
Ez nem önuralom, ez száműzetés, bleak. (self-burn!)

[Verse 4 – Dog Irony]

“Kutyát vegyél, ott a tisztelet, love!” – mondod,
De te még magadat se bírod, mindenkit nyomsz a porba.
Unconditional? Az benned nulla,
A hűség a kutyádban, benned csak a gubanc, fura. (irony check!)

[Verse 5 – History Delusion]

“Királyok se térdeltek nők előtt, ha-ha!”
De a király palotában, te meg garázsba zárva.
Nem crown, nem throne, csak hamutál és füst,
A múltad egy üres beat, a jövőd full sötét, köd. (no kingdom!)

[Bridge]

Ez nem erő, ez csak maszk,
Ez nem igazság, csak trash talk flask. (mask off!)
A világ nem dől össze, mert te ráüvöltöd,
A net csak visszhang, a valóság széttép, brother. (reality check!)

[Hook / Chorus]

Pot head keyboard warrior – (say it loud!)
Garage philosopher, csak a füst marad.
Életed falak közt, rideg monológ,
Keserűbb, mint száz kávé, cukor nélkül, bro! (no sugar!)

[Outro – The Final Blow]

Nem te választottad a magányt – az választott téged,
Térkép nélkül bolyongsz, minden út véged.
A self-ironika a gerinced, csont helyett,
A saját keserűségedből főztél végzetet. (game over!)

Pot head keyboard warriors

ITALIAN VERSION

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.WHAT THIS IS:

This is your new groove-fueled reality check. "Acque Basse" (Shallow End) is a head-nodding, bass-gorgeous jam that gets your feet moving while it dissects the soul-crushing farce of fake teamwork and silent envy. It’s for anyone who’s ever sat through a forced team-building event, gotten a glowing review that was hidden from the group chat, and thought, "This is all a beautiful lie." It’s the smooth, easy groove of 70s disco meets the laid-back pulse of one-drop reggae, all with a razor-sharp, cynical edge.

THE VIBE IS:

    That undeniable, Saturday Night Fever-era Bee Gees melody meets a Toots & The Maytals rhythm section—a gorgeous, melodic bass line, crisp guitars, and soulful harmonies.

    A danceable, swaying rhythm anchored by a classic one-drop reggae beat that makes your head nod instinctively.

    The contrast of smooth, soulful harmonies on the chorus against clear, rhythmic, truth-telling vocals on the verses.

    A cool, infectious groove—this isn't frantic; it's smooth, powerful, and impossibly catchy.

WHAT THIS IS NOT:

    This is NOT a feel-good, mindless party track.

    This is NOT another song about superficial motivation.

    This is NOT whining. This is observation, sharpened into a weapon and set to a monster groove.

If you've ever felt like an island in a sea of forced high-fives, this is your anthem. Press play, nod your head, move your feet, and see your own reflection pedaling in the shallow end.

(This is the Italian vocal version. An English funk-disco fusion version is also available on my profile.)daling.

SHALLOW END (The Team Lie) italian

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

BLOOD OF KINGS

A groovy rebellion. This is a call to wake up, detox the lies, and remember the fire that runs in your veins. Built on a foundation of roots reggae riddims pulse.

It’s a danceable groove with a fighting spirit. You can move to it, you can sing to it, you can feel it.

What It Is: A melodic call to action. A reclaiming of strength. A fusion of soulful rhythms and raw truth.

What It Is Not: A hateful rant. A generic workout track. A polished, soulless pop song.

Blood of Kings

https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-psychology-behind-my-who-i-am-song

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

This song is for the ones who give until they break—and then rebuild sharper. A forged soul in motion: empathy with boundaries, loyalty with claws. It’s the sound of a heart that’s been used like an engine, tuned through heartbreak and quiet evolution.

Forged in the push-pull of Type 2 sensitivity and Ox endurance, this track carries the pulse of those who serve, protect, and finally learn to protect themselves too. It’s soul, funk, and reflection rolled into one—baritone warmth, disco light, and the grit of someone who’s done shadow work with a rhythm section.

The groove is kitchen-floor honest: no filters, no glitter, just truth that moves.

What it is:
A grounded soul anthem for the strong-but-tired, the caretakers who found their spine, the calm eye inside their own storm. A dance of boundaries and compassion—Barry White meets inner alchemy.

What it is not:
Not a cry for attention. Not ego in disguise. Not plastic, no  bullshit - “self-love” slogans or radio fluff. This is real growth with a groove.

Who I Am

https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-psychology-behind-my-who-i-am-song
instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

Ki vagyok én --(Enneagram 2 – Ökör szív ötvözet)

Leírás:
Ez a dal azoknak szól, akik addig adtak, míg majdnem elfogytak — aztán újraépítették magukat, élesebben, tisztábban. Egy mozgásban lévő, megkovácsolt lélek: együttérzés határokkal, hűség karmokkal. Ez a szív hangja, amit motor módjára használtak, és amit a fájdalom újrahangolt.

A Type 2 érzékenység és az Ökör kitartás elegyéből született. Ez a dal azoké, akik szolgálnak, védenek, és végül megtanulják magukat is megvédeni. Lélek, funk és önismeret egyben – bariton melegség, diszkófény, és a belső árnyékmunka ritmusa.

A groove olyan, mint az élet a konyhapadlón: szűretlen, őszinte, mozduló igazság.

Mi ez:
Egy földhözragadt soul himnusz a fáradt erőseknek. Azoknak, akik adnak, de már tudják, mikor kell nemet mondani. Egy tánc az egyensúly és az együttérzés között – mintha Barry White a léleksebészeten járt volna.

Mi nem ez:
Nem segélykérés. Nem ego mutatvány. Nem műanyag „önszeretet” szlogen. Ez valódi fejlődés, valódi groove-val.

Ki Vagyok En

"Social Theater Hotline (1-800-LIKEME)" grew out of my article “The Unspoken Rules of Social Performance, 
at:  https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-10-minute-theater-why-people-oxst-each-other-upon-meeting Mirroring, and the Games We Play to Be Seen.”

The song turns that idea inside out: a hotline to our collective performance anxiety. It’s about the endless choreography of being “real” in public — and how we mirror each other’s masks until we forget who started the lie. But beneath the satire sits something quieter: we perform because we’re afraid to be truly seen. The first eyes we flinch from aren’t the crowd’s — they’re our own.

It’s self-conscious pop for the terminally self-aware — an anthem for everyone who’s ever edited their truth mid-sentence.

The First 10 Minutes of BS

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

For everyone who ever wept to Tupac’s Dear Mama — this is her answer.
A mother’s voice rising from memory and metal bars, reaching for her son through time, through pain, through love that never learned how to quit.

What it is: A raw, soulful confession from a mother to her son, 2Pac — a prayer, a letter, and a heartbeat wrapped in one.” The reply the world never heard. A prayer in rhythm. A confession dressed in grace. A hand pressed to glass that still believes the other side can feel it.

What it is not:
It’s not about blame, not about saving anyone. It’s about SEEING someone ; your child, your mother, when the world already turned away.

For everyone locked away in concrete and silence, there’s still somebody who believes in you. A mother who never stopped. A heart that still knows your name.

(West Coast cinematic soul-hop — emotional, reverent, truthful. Inspired by Tupac Shakur’s “Dear Mama.”)

Dear Son (A Mother’s Reply to 2Pac)

Link to my blog, where I break down the song:
https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-anatomists-song-dissecting-the-10000-year-old-lie

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

A roots-rock reggae arrangement (one-drop rhythm, heavy bass, crisp off-beats) that channels the pulse of survival, revolt and the machine of empire.

Marvin Harris's 'Cannibals and Kings' revealed a foundational lie: civilization wasn't built on cooperation, but on a protein monopoly. As kings and priests consolidated power, they propagated a new social order—one where the many were fed a diet of grains and ideologies of "isms", while the few reserved the nutrient-dense, satiating meat for themselves.

This song is the soundtrack to that betrayal. From the first irrigation ditch that choked a river to the "contracts on the street" that replaced physical chains, we trace the evolution of this cannibalistic system. It's in the way love was outsourced to the army, how faith was sold by the priest, and how we now kneel before a surplus we're told is scarce.

This is for everyone who's ever felt the weight of the chain and wondered where it came from. The feast is still going on. The question is, are you at the table, or are you on it?

THIS IS:
•	A sonic indictment of the first class system, built on a stomach-level betrayal.
•	The unwritten history of your last meal, tracing the line from the first granary to the modern contract.
•	A lyrical bloodstain on the marble floors of the palace, exposing the bones it's built on.
•	For everyone who knows the system is cannibalistic and is tired of being told it's a feast.
THIS AIN'T:
•	A vague, poetic lament about "the system." This is surgical.
•	A call for a return to some romanticized "primitive" past. This is about understanding the trap so we can break out of it.
•	Background music for studying. This is a demand to pay attention.
•	Hopecore. This is a warning from the gutters beneath the throne.

The Garden Turned Machine



Link to my blog, where I break down the song:
www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/the-ana…year-old-lie

(The English version is below with same cover art)

🎙️ Instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

A roots-rock reggae arrangement (one-drop rhythm, heavy bass, crisp off-beats) that channels the pulse of survival, revolt and the machine of empire.

Marvin Harris's 'Cannibals and Kings' revealed a foundational lie: civilization wasn't built on cooperation, but on a protein monopoly. As kings and priests consolidated power, they propagated a new social order—one where the many were fed a diet of grains and ideologies of "isms", while the few reserved the nutrient-dense, satiating meat for themselves.

This song is the soundtrack to that betrayal. From the first irrigation ditch that choked a river to the "contracts on the street" that replaced physical chains, we trace the evolution of this cannibalistic system. It's in the way love was outsourced to the army, how faith was sold by the priest, and how we now kneel before a surplus we're told is scarce.

This is for everyone who's ever felt the weight of the chain and wondered where it came from. The feast is still going on. The question is, are you at the table, or are you on it?

THIS IS:
• A sonic indictment of the first class system, built on a stomach-level betrayal.
• The unwritten history of your last meal, tracing the line from the first granary to the modern contract.
• A lyrical bloodstain on the marble floors of the palace, exposing the bones it's built on.
• For everyone who knows the system is cannibalistic and is tired of being told it's a feast.
THIS AIN'T:
• A vague, poetic lament about "the system." This is surgical.
• A call for a return to some romanticized "primitive" past. This is about understanding the trap so we can break out of it.
• Background music for studying. This is a demand to pay attention.
• Hopecore. This is a warning from the gutters beneath the throne.


The Garden Turned Machine (ITALIA)

a welcome song for Laura with a skill of fire cupping. please visit her. 

Welcome On Board, Laura

instrumental and vocals generated with Suno AI.
✍️ Lyrics written by Dr Mester. Protected under U.S. Copyright laws.
⚠️ Not for commercial use.

TWIN FLAMES: COSMIC BS DETECTOR
A funkadelic–disco roast built from my article on the twin-flame belief system:
https://www.boiseremedycenter.com/blog/twin-flames-talk

Twin Flame BS Detector

NOT HERE TO TRADE HOLLOW FOLLOW FOR FOLLOW NOR NEED LIKES OR ANY PROPOSAL, TY!

"Naturopath by profession, rhythm-maker by passion. Exploring the deep connections between ancestral wisdom, nutrition, and sound. Funk-infused truths, anything from  fermented beets to delicious raw beats, and messages that challenge the norm."

Pot head keyboard warriors

Dr Mester Funk