BROWN SUGAH

Glass House

THAT'S MY...

Lil' Obsession (feat. Ambré)

HELP!

Heat The Streets Some Mo'

By Now

Miss Hot July

Damage Control

Love You Right

Neon incense rising through the rafters
Hollow hymns rehearsed for manufactured rapture
Paper crowns trembling over borrowed halos
Mirrors warp the faces into saints and shadows
Hands lifted high but the floor keeps shaking
Hearts beat loud but the sound feels faking
Smoke curls slow like whispered scripture
Frames blur out in a holy mixture

Whisper louder, echo over
Hush now, closer, turn it over
Ring the bells, the choir’s breathing
Noise dressed up like something holy
Count to seven, break it open
Hands together, eyes still frozen
Say the words that keep repeating
Tell me if the silence’s speaking

Static trembling underneath the choir
Faith on fire but the flames grow tired
Screens glow bright like stained-glass windows
Every shout just a shadow in the echoes
Ticker tape falling like secondhand prayers
Torn confessions tangled in electrical wires
Crowd hum thick like smoke in the rafters
Praise runs thin but the pulse runs faster

Whisper louder, echo over
Hush now, closer, turn it over
Ring the bells, the choir’s breathing
Noise dressed up like something holy
Count to seven, break it open
Hands together, eyes still frozen
Say the words that keep repeating
Tell me if the silence’s speaking

Glass eyes stare, devotion borrowed
Truth runs dry in a well gone hollow
Shaking hands draw crooked halos
Grace sold cheap in plastic rainbow 
If every voice is screaming louder
Which echo do we even follow
If every signal means salvation
Why does quiet sound like sorrow

믿음처럼 보이던 것들
빛에 녹아 사라졌을 때
Silence cuts like silver
Truth tastes strange

Choir folds like waves collapsing
Pulse drifts out, the room unlatching
Heartbeats sync like forced confession
Faith bends low in quiet suppression
Golden dust settles on the altar
Hands shake slow, the echoes falter
What’s left shining when the light stops bleeding
What remains when the noise stops feeding

Whisper louder, echo over
Hush now, closer, turn it over
Ring the bells, the choir’s breathing
Noise dressed up like something holy
Count to seven, break it open
Hands together, eyes still frozen
Say the words that keep repeating
Tell me if the silence’s speaking

Tell me if the silence’s speaking

Golden Idol

[Verse 1]
I watch the thoughts spin threads in air,
Little narratives pretending they care.
They rise like sparks, they fall like dust—
I see them float but they don't earn trust.
The mind makes movies out of what I feel,
Shrinks the moment down, calls it real.
But when I breathe into the body’s flow,
The stories fade, they lose their glow.
I'm wider than the tale that tries to claim me,
A steady space the mind can't frame me.
I let the noise dissolve, unwind—
I’m not the echo, I’m what's behind.

[Pre-Chorus]
Any story that I tell myself's a lie,
Not shame—just the truth that thoughts oversimplify.
Reality is spacious, the mind is small;
I leave the narration, I feel it all.

[Chorus]
I don’t believe every thought I think;
I watch them rise, I watch them sink.
I don’t fold inside the mind’s vibration—
I rest in something deeper: liberation.
Awareness opens wide and clear,
I'm not the story—I’m what’s here.
I meet each thought softly, let it pass;
I’m larger than the mind’s looking glass.

[Verse 2]
Sagan said to bake a pie from scratch,
You’d have to build the universe to match.
So every thought’s a fragment, never whole—
A sliver of a much more endless soul.
I notice each idea when it appears,
But I don’t crawl inside its gears.
The body anchors, breath realigns,
The noise gets quiet, the truth refines.
No more reacting from the narrow frame—
I show up present, not the same.
Thoughts keep forming, that’s their role,
But I choose the space, I own the whole.

[Bridge]
Thoughts will come, stories will form—
The mind is just performing its norm.
But I don’t take them as the final view;
They’re passing clouds in a sky that’s true.

[Final Chorus]
I don’t believe every thought I think;
I watch them rise, I watch them sink.
I rest beyond the inner narration—
A steady, grounded liberation.
Reality is kinder than the tale it replaces;
I breathe into presence—open spaces.

[Outro]
Let them go… let them pass…
I’m the space beyond the glass.

Larger Than the Mind

@elmiene

Managed by Two First Names Inc.

tuffin@twofirstnamesinc.com
scott@twofirstnamesinc.com

Damage Control

Elmiene

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