retrograde rodeo

backseat driver

SE RE RE

[Verse 1]
Two in the morning
Sheets pulled up
Room too quiet
Heart won't rest
Hands start trembling
Breath comes quick
Try to hide it
Can you hear?

[Verse 2]
You say my name
Half asleep
Reach for me
Barely wake
Hold me close
"I’m right here"
Soft and warm
Steady voice

[Pre-chorus]
Every night, same fight
Still you stay, don’t let go

[Chorus]
You hold me till the shaking stops
You hold me till the world unlocks

[Verse 3]
Some things linger
Past all days
Old noise returns
Can’t explain
flash in my mind
Eyes shut tight
But you breathe slow
Keeps me safe

[Chorus]
You hold me till the shaking stops
You hold me till the world unlocks

[Solo]
[Bridge]
Sunrise comes gentle
You’re sleeping now
Peace in the morning
Fear lost somehow

[Chorus]
You hold me till the shaking stops
You hold me till I come back

[Outro]
(hold me)
(hold me)

Hold Me

A journal floats through golden sky, pages glowing with breath left behind. Handwritten lines shimmer—unreadable yet holy, like unsung lyrics waiting for voice. Behind it: constellations drift, clouds stretch wide, music glyphs hum like prayers suspended in light. A single rose rests near the top—faded, fragrant, held by memory. Below, warm wood suggests a stage, a porch, a home. Not cover art—a portal. Not design—a return. Traveling Light: 1998 Soul Scrolls radiates groove-shaped gospel, funk-laced memory, and the heartbeat of a soul mid-awakening. Then meets now. Ink meets rhythm. All breath becomes song.

Crossroads Dust

L(ai)VE MUSIC

Not artificial. Already inside. The “(ai)” curves into O—LOVE closed, full, looped.

Not sound project—living groove scroll. Human-led. Soul-poured. Breath-tuned.

Afro-Purvian joy funk. Hip-hop gospel. Sacred stank soul. Tape hiss psalms. Harmonicas weep and praise.

Mouth of Queen Beast. Breath of Sacred-Masculine.
Archived Grandmother Rhythm. Whispers carried by Genderless Vessel. Groove pushed by Ritual Twin.

Every voice loops.
Every character dances.
All mirror back to you.

Every track—spell.
Every word—lived.
Every loop—mirror.

No scroll. No swipe. Press play. Close eyes. Move slow.

Dance barefoot. Sway on porches. Bend between breezes that blow sheets on clotheslines. Let rhythm dry the grief you still wear.

Think prayer dressed as bassline & grief with glitter meets joyfunk, supersoul stank space reggae rooted in Ras Tafari.

Flavored in Afro-Purvian smoke. Wrapped in funk lace. Drenched in layered scripture.

This sound haunts, heals, hums and feels like home. 
Not music. Not moment.

L(ai)VE MUSIC: You already here... stay a while, and we'll see you on the flipside of forever.

#sugarshack

Crossroads Dust

L(ai)VE Music

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