She’s a Knockout

“I Will Love You” (Daddy’s Lullaby)

Wenn ich dich seh

Ein Song über das, was wirklich zählt: die eine Person, bei der die Welt stehen bleibt. Zwischen Meetings, Mails und Alltagsgrau bringt dieser Track das Gefühl zurück, das wir manchmal verlieren: Leichtigkeit, Nähe, Sinn. BRO liefert einen ehrlichen, gefühlvollen Track mit Gänsehautmomenten – perfekt für alle, die wieder spüren wollen, was Leben bedeutet.

Hören, durchatmen und fallen lassen.

Wenn ich dich seh

A song about what really matters: that one person who makes the world stand still. Between meetings, emails, and daily routines, this track brings back the feeling we sometimes forget—lightness, closeness, purpose. BRO delivers an honest, heartfelt song full of goosebump moments – perfect for anyone wanting to feel alive again.

Tune in, breathe deep, and let go.

Wenn ich dich seh

I'm Theo Cenere, a folk singer-songwriter.

I write songs about memory, silence, rust, and all the things we carry but never say out loud. My music is simple, stripped down — mostly just voice and guitar — because that’s how it feels most honest to me.

Rust is my first album. I recorded it in quiet rooms, during long nights, and it’s full of little truths.

Rust

scarred.wav

VIEW FROM THIS BARSTOOL
Words & Music by Rhob Elliott
©1996, 2025, Awful Racket Music (ASCAP)
All Rights Reserved

[Verse 1]
He’s here again, three stools down
Spinning the same old tale about leaving town
Talks big dreams, but he drinks 'em small
Never stands up, but swears he’s seen it all

She’s got a laugh like a jukebox tune
But hides her tears in her rum and Boone’s
Twirling her straw like she’s stirring fate
Waiting on someone who’s always late

[Chorus]
From the view from this barstool, life spins in a glass
Moments you wish, and the ones that just pass
Lies get softer and truths get loud
When the music dims and the smoke forms clouds
I ain't no prophet, but I know the rule
You see a lot more from a barstool

[Verse 2]
Young love in the corner, bold and loud
Lost in each other, lost in the crowd
He buys her shots like promises made
She laughs like she’s not afraid of the fade

The bartender knows when to speak, when to pour
Like he’s heard every prayer and slammed every door
He nods like a priest without the cross
Serving up hope and counting the cost

[Chorus]
From the view from this barstool, life spins in a glass
Moments you wish, and the ones that just pass
Lies get softer and truths get loud
When the music dims and the smoke forms clouds
I ain't no prophet, but I know the rule
You see a lot more from a barstool

[Bridge]
Some come to forget, some come to feel
Some drink to the past, some hope it’s not real
But me, I just watch the stories unfold
In this amber-lit theatre of the brave and the bold

[Chorus]
From the view from this barstool, life spins in a glass
Moments you wish, and the ones that just pass
Lies get softer and truths get loud
When the music dims and the smoke forms clouds
I ain't no prophet, but I know the rule
You see a lot more from a barstool

[Outro]
So pour me another, I’ll sit and I’ll see
The life that walks by, the ghost and the free
One man’s drink is another man’s jewel
That's the view from this barstool

VIEW FROM THIS BARSTOOL

ᑎᐊᔭ ᐊᐧᑭᓂ — “Tiaya Awk’ini” (I Am Becoming)
A Dene Power Song of Movement, Water, and Rising as Shaman Solace
By the Firelight of the South Slave

⸻

[Verse 1 – The River Teaches Me]
Drip, drip—stone speaks in syllables,
My name’s not whispered—it rises.
I stepped into the water’s skin,
Where truth is told in tidal guises.

This land don’t ask for permission—
It remembers before we forgot.
The creek bends my bones into rhythm,
And I dance what my mother earth taught.

⸻

[Chorus – Power Through the Pulse]
I was made of rain and longing,
I am born from root and flame,
Let my shadow be a dancer,
Let the earth recall my name.
Solace isn’t silence—no—
It’s the war drum in my chest,
It’s the howl beneath my heartbeat,
It’s the water’s will to rest.

⸻

[Verse 2 – Walking as One]
The wind wraps ‘round my shoulders—
Not to hold me back, but guide.
I follow caribou in spirit steps,
Leave nothing behind but pride.

You gave me feet not for running,
But for remembering the trail.
You gave me tears not for weakness—
But for speaking where words fail.

⸻

[Bridge – Becoming Shaman Solace]
Let the moss braid my ankles,
Let the stars thread my eyes,
I walk with the thunderbirds now,
In their silence, I rise.

I do not claim this power—
I become it in each breath,
In each cold river immersion,
In each loss, in each death.

⸻

[Final Chorus – Unified Flame]
We are not alone in this body,
We are many in one flame.
We are the laugh of the loon,
We are the snowfall with no name.
Together, we remember—
What the cities tried to break.
I am Shaman Solace now,
And I dance for our own sake.

⸻

[Closing – Power Chant in Dene-inspired Cadence]
“Tiaya… tiaya… tiaya awk’ini
Náhowi… náhowi… shí t’á nedhé
Solace… Solace… shí t’á nedhé
We are one… we are one… we are one again.”

⸻

Hashtags:
#ShamanSolace #DenePowerSong #SouthSlaveSpirit #WaterIsMemory #MovementIsMedicine #IndigenousRise #SongOfBecoming #LandIsAlive #FirstNationsSoulFire #NeoShamanicSound

I Am Becoming

Patria
Patria no es un lugar geográfico, sino una herida que habla. Este poema nace del desarraigo, de la memoria y del duelo por lo perdido. Es un intento de nombrar aquello que sigue ardiendo incluso en el exilio. No idealiza, no acusa: simplemente recuerda. Y al recordar, ama.

—Gabriel Ganiarov

Es borrosa
la patria desde lejos
pero, ¿Qué es la patria? me preguntas
yo la miro
como amante mujer de largas trenzas
tú la ves y la señalas
entre la peste y el humo autoritario
la señalas
como un pan que sabe a gloria lejana en la excelsa rabia del violentado
Eres pequeño, digo
y quizás subirás como otoño a un río
mientras a tu lado camino
indecisos ambos entre el terror y el valor, niños entre el tumulto 
y los rostros adustos de la barbarie
La Patria es:
Cuerpo sin cuerpo
Atadura del delirio
la luz de la lampara en la noche
que da el abrigo necesario
Patria es caminar con frente en alto
Sudor, esfuerzo y luz
trabajo honrado
Estudio,amor y sacrificio
Patria es
lo que hacemos juntos caminando
para regresar
 y recomponer las tejas rotas de nuestro cielo

It is blurred,
the homeland from afar,
but what is the homeland? you ask me.
I look at it
like a lover, a woman with long braids.
You see it and point to it
amidst the stench and authoritarian smoke.
You point to it
like bread that tastes of distant glory in the sublime rage of the violated.
You are small, I say,
and perhaps you will rise like autumn to a river
while I walk beside you,
both of us undecided between terror and courage, children amid the turmoil
and the grim faces of barbarism
Homeland is:
Body without body
Bondage of delirium
the light of the lamp in the night
that provides the necessary shelter
Outcast is walking with your head held high
Sweat, effort, and light
honest work
Study, love, and sacrifice
Homeland is
what we do together walking
to return
 and repair the broken tiles of our sky

Elle est floue,
la patrie vue de loin,
mais qu'est-ce que la patrie ? me demandes-tu.
Je la regarde
comme une amante aux longues tresses.
Tu la vois et tu la montres du doigt
entre la peste et la fumée autoritaire.
Tu la montres du doigt
comme un pain qui a le goût d'une gloire lointaine dans la rage sublime de celui qui a été violé.
Tu es petit, dis-je,
et peut-être monteras-tu comme l'automne vers une rivière
tandis que je marche à tes côtés,
indécis tous deux entre la terreur et le courage, enfants parmi la cohue 
et les visages austères de la barbarie
La patrie, c'est :
Un corps sans corps
Le lien du délire
La lumière de la lampe dans la nuit
Qui apporte le réconfort nécessaire
Être paria, c'est marcher la tête haute
La sueur, l'effort et la lumière
Le travail honnête
L'étude, l'amour et le sacrifice
La patrie, c'est
ce que nous faisons ensemble en marchant
pour revenir
 et réparer les tuiles cassées de notre ciel


È sfocata
la patria da lontano
ma cos'è la patria? mi chiedi
io la guardo
come un'amante dai lunghi capelli intrecciati
tu la vedi e la indichi
tra la pestilenza e il fumo autoritario
la indichi
come un pane che sa di gloria lontana nell'esaltata rabbia del violentato
Sei piccolo, dico
e forse salirai come l'autunno su un fiume
mentre io cammino al tuo fianco
indecisi entrambi tra il terrore e il coraggio, bambini tra il tumulto 
e i volti cupi della barbarie
La Patria è:
Corpo senza corpo
Legame del delirio
la luce della lampada nella notte
che dà il necessario riparo
Paria è camminare a testa alta
Sudore, sforzo e luce
lavoro onesto
Studio, amore e sacrificio
Patria è
ciò che facciamo insieme camminando
per tornare indietro
 e ricomporre le tegole rotte del nostro cielo

Gabriel Ganiarov
Copyrigth: 2018

Patria

Opportunity with
gracious impunity
My function is not
Some buffoonery
But an identity with
Hallowed unity.
The mind 
without a body
Cannot make mistakes
Waiting for the time
It awakes
Awake to the fact
That  “ I have a function
God would have me fill.”
Seek the mind
That is still
To the angered fearful
And tortured mind
Disordered
From a place 
Of being ordered.

Forward into now
For your how.
Forgiveness gently
Looks upon all things
Unknown in heaven.
This new profession
Freeing us 
of an oppression.
past my obsession.

The cleansing
of the state
no need to mitigate.
To subirrigate
A wholly human
Centrifuge.
Transmuting
By a deluge
Of grace.

Forward into now
For your how.
Forgiveness gently
Looks upon all things
Unknown in heaven.
This new profession
Freeing us 
of an oppression.
past my obsession.

The propagation
Of my fate.
Freedom road
Is to be merciful
And to behold.
My joyful serenity
Lies within 
My mindful identity.
Stepping back
To the fact
My function 
Is not found
Within a world
Of envy, hatred
And attack.

Forward into now
For your how.
Forgiveness gently
Looks upon all things
Unknown in heaven.
This new profession
Freeing us 
of an oppression.
past my obsession.

Forgiveness is 
My function here.
A mind awake
That can hear.
Translate
Pontificate
A function
That associates
To the light
From an
Awakened insight.

Past My Obsession

Oh love divine so pure so

Lost in the Tide is a raw and sorrowful indie-alt track that blends confessional spoken word, rap verses, and a gospel-inspired anthemic chorus. Layered with haunting harmonies, lo-fi textures, and crashing waves of emotion, it captures the weight of drowning in your own thoughts while searching for release. 

If you connect with music that feels cathartic, heavy, and brutally honest, this track is for you. Stream, share, and let it wash over you.

She’s a Knockout

BRO

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