Explores Jung's Shadow Resistance—the internal struggle against limiting beliefs and internalised doubts. Doubt personifies as a "squatter in the rooms of my potential," dragging chains of inherited fear and family patterns. The song charts the journey from being trapped by self-limiting beliefs to learning doubt's language and translating warnings into "maps of resistance." The core Jungian insight: by confronting rather than avoiding our shadow doubts, we transform them from predators into guides, reclaiming our psychological territory until "my body: a country where his passport no longer works." From my upcoming book "Breakfast with Jung"  Chapter 2 The Shadow

All Of Me  (Lyrics)

Doubt slouches in, heavy-shouldered and gray
A squatter in the rooms of my potential
Unpacking memories like old, worn luggage
She whispers: "Remember your limits"
His voice, sandpaper against possibility
Drags chains of inherited fear
Each link a story I've swallowed whole
But I am learning her language
Translating her warnings into maps of resistance
My bones, a rebellion waiting
Doubt circles, predatory
Teeth of calculation, eyes of measured impossibility
He knows every locked door
Every bolted window of my hesitation
I stand, breath sharp as broken glass
Hands open to whatever comes
Doubt shrinks, retreats
A shadow growing smaller against the landscape of becoming
My body: a country where his passport no longer works
Belief, not a destination
But the first wild step beyond his maps
Beyond his maps

All Of Me

40 Years in Minutes in the House

🎙️ Cover by: Svara Jam Lab
🎵 Original Song by: Lionel Richie

If you enjoy the cover styles of Dave Fenley, Sheridan Brass, or Boyce Avenue, this rendition will feel close to your heart.
Perfect for a quiet night, a warm cup of coffee, or simply keeping you company in moments of reflection.

Stuck On You

If Only

© 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson. All Rights Reserved.

Title: Stay at Home, My Heart
Based on the poem: “Song” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Public Domain)
Adaptation, Expansion, and Musical Composition by: Lance Thomas Davidson

This work is an original musical and lyrical adaptation of a public-domain poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
The adaptation expands the poem into a modern song form, introducing new verses, a 10-bar vocal solo, a bridge, and complete musical structuring suitable for vocal and instrumental performance.
All new lyrical, melodic, rhythmic, and structural elements reformatting of the original poem for musical adaptation are wholly original and the sole property of Lance Thomas Davidson.
The underlying text by Longfellow remains in the public domain.

No portion of the lyrics, melody, arrangement, or performance format—whether in whole or in part—may be reproduced, distributed, performed, or adapted without the express written consent of the copyright holder.

Classification: Derivative Musical Work
Source: Public Domain Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Copyright Owner: Lance Thomas Davidson
Year of Copyright: 2025

Stay at Home, My Heart
Written and Adapted by Lance Thomas Davidson
(Based on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s public domain poem)
© 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson. All Rights Reserved.

Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest,
Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest.

Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander, they know not where,
Are full of trouble and full of care;
To stay at home is best.

Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander, they know not where,
Are full of trouble and full of care;
To stay at home is best.

Weary and homesick and distressed,
They wander east, they wander west,
And are baffled and beaten and blown about
By the winds of the wilderness of doubt;
To stay at home is best.

Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander, they know not where,
Are full of trouble and full of care;
To stay at home is best.

Then stay at home, my heart, and rest;
The bird is safest in its nest;
O’er all that flutter their wings and fly,
A hawk is hovering in the sky;
To stay at home is best.

The dawn may call with silver light,
And tempt the soul to take its flight,
But peace resides where love is near,
Where every whisper calms the fear;
To stay at home is best.

The world may promise golden dreams,
But all is not the way it seems;
The heart grows wise when still and true,
For all it seeks lies close to you;
To stay at home is best.

Stay my heart, don’t roam too far,
Peace is where you are,
No storm can tear apart,
The stillness in your heart,
Stay, my love, stay home.

The rivers flow, the seasons turn,
Yet restless hearts still yearn and yearn;
But love will bloom where roots are deep,
And guard the dreams our souls must keep;
To stay at home is best.

[Final Chorus]
Home-keeping hearts are happiest,
For those that wander, they know not where,
Are full of trouble and full of care;
To stay at home is best.

Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest,
Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest.

Footnote:
Although this song was adapted for musical presentation and draws inspiration from the perspective of the original author, it is not the opinion or belief of Lance Thomas Davidson that one should remain indoors continually.
Listeners are encouraged to go out, enjoy the world, appreciate nature, meet new people, and cultivate meaningful friendships.
This adaptation has been created purely for artistic expression and interpretive purposes, and does not necessarily represent the personal viewpoint of the composer.



Stay at Home, My Heart

Where Were You, While We Were Getting High?

Rövid volt az éjszaka, és túl hamar jött a hajnal
Ott ült velem az ördög, ott ült velem egy angyal
Egyik súgta hagyd itt, másik mondta ne menj, várj
Egyik elárult volna, a másik mondta ne félj...szállj!

Most már tudom, hogy vak voltam, nem láttalak
Nem értettem meg a jeleket, égig nőttek a falak
Mire fény gyúlt bennem, addigra a játék véget ért
Mire utánad kaptam, már messze vitt téged a szél. 

Te lettél bennem minden hetedik szívdobbanás!

Egy világot felépítettem, egyet leromboltam
Egy csodát megálmodtam, egyet elárultam
Nincs próba, ez az Élet az amit annyira vártál!
Nincs tegnap, nincs holnap, most van, szálljál!

Vannak nekem könnyeim, de én nem tudok sírni 
Kell az erő, hogy az emlékeink végig tudjam vinni
Csak úgy tudok repülni, ha a szárnyaimat te adod
Az otthon az lett nekem, ahol te és én is ott vagyok. 

Színeket mutattam neked, amiket te nem ismertél
Titkokat nyitottam ki, miket előtte soha sem értettél 
Most már ragyogsz bátran, már te is érted a fényt 
Most már mehetsz, csillaggal telt égbolt őrzi az éjt 

Egy világot felépítettem, egyet leromboltam
Egy csodát megálmodtam, egyet elárultam
Nincs próba, ez az Élet az amit annyira vártál!
Nincs tegnap, nincs holnap, most van, szálljál!

Egy világot felépítettem, egyet leromboltam
Egy csodát megálmodtam, egyet elárultam
Nincs próba, ez az Élet az amit annyira vártál!
Nincs tegnap, nincs holnap, most van, szálljál!

Szállj! (Original-mix)

If you like soul, dream pop, blues, jazz, and swing this album is for you. This album attempts to fuse many genres and use them to express a story, a sentiment, and emotion. This music is supposed to appeal to your heart and soul. This music is supposed to shake you. This music is supposed to touch your soul with blend of instruments, a soulful voice, and deep tones. Hope you enjoy the album as much as I enjoyed making it. Cheers!

Symphony in Brown

All lyrics and conceptual material herein are authored, composed, produced, and recorded by Lance Thomas Davidson.
© 2025 Lance Thomas Davidson. All Rights Reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced or adapted without written consent.
Part 2 may be construed or interpreted as artistic inference.

Epstein Island – The Hidden Truth (Part 2 – There Are No Files to Fact-Check)

There are no files — not now, not then,
No drawers to pull, no paper, no pen.
No folders marked, no dusty stacks,
Only mirrored drives and barcode tracks.
No filing rooms with walls of steel,
Just humming cores where secrets reel.

The record lives in captured light,
CCTV by day and night.
Each frame stamped clear with time and name,
Exact by code or alias claim.
Flight itineraries, refueling notes,
Manifests lined like banker’s quotes.
Every handoff, gate, and date,
Logged and stored by digital fate.
Like pro-grade ledgers counting gold,
Every transaction’s line is told.

Those files were strong, yet weak within,
Guarded by code but careless sin.
The same soft key from his New York townhouse,
Unlocked the vaults, mouse to mouse.
Reused password, simple, plain,
Opened vaults of hidden chain.
No mystery loss, no system fail,
Just lazy locks on a living trail.

Dozens and dozens of gold bars stored,
Kilo-weighted, ledger-scored.
$17–20 million more,
In gilded fixtures behind each door.
Toilets, faucets, handles, knobs,
Dripping wealth through install jobs.
Golden sinks and marble veins,
Reflected power and hidden chains.
Hundreds of watches rare and fine,
Missing pieces from the line.
Rolex, Patek, Cartier brace,
Vanished quiet without a trace.
Cold wallets sleeping since 2011,
Keys at rest in data heaven.

From island sand to New York interrogation jam,
They pressed for keys, for proof of scam.
But passwords kept or never told,
Would guard the truth, both hot and cold.
For any cold wallet could still appear,
The same in shape, the same veneer.
Buy one online, box it tight,
Swap the proof beneath the light.
Lock it in with evidence tags,
Claim it sealed in federal bags.
But the crypto held was gone before,
The real one taken through another door.

Then came August, the lights went dim,
A cell door closed on the truth of him.
“He took his life,” the press release read,
A “convenient” night with a witness dead.
No review board, no inquest call,
Just echoes down a marble hall.
The records sealed, the vaults remained,
But questions hung unexplained.

San Juan Field — boots on ground,
Tagged each crate, each vault they found.
Only a handful crossed that span,
From raid report to questioning plan.
No I-A probe, no written word,
No oversight was ever heard.
Within 5 years those agents quit,
Filed retirement, and that was it.

Then came claims of crypto gains,
Cousins and in-laws linked by chains.
Cold wallets found with timing tight,
Billions surfaced out of sight.
Reports of injuries faded fast,
No discipline, the storm had passed.
The same few names in whispers tied,
To field men who’d once stood inside.

And just like troops from Saddam’s reign,
With palace spoils in hidden chain —
Golden pistols, lion heads,
Silk-lined cases beneath their beds.
They carried pieces they’d never show,
Too costly bright for the world to know.
Same impulse running through the years,
Greed and silence, twins of fears.

San Juan vaults still hum unseen,
Each crate logged neat, each barcode clean.
5 years gone, the trail grew thin,
Yet digital proof still sings within.
CCTV frames remain,
Timestamps etched in data chain.
Proof exists, precise, intact,
Yet no one dares to call it fact.

There are no files — no drawers, no racks,
But evidence lives in digital tracks.
Exact by name or code name thin,
Weak keys guard the wealth within.
Cold wallets wake, their balances spin,
Bloodline wealth reclaims the sin.
No paper myth, no vanished bin,
Just chosen eyes that won’t look in.
And while the world thinks proof ran thin,
The data hums — the truth within.



Epstein Island - The Hidden Truth - Part 2 (artistic inference)

Probation Chemical

Small Victories

Lance Thomas Davidson | Music Biography
I’m Lance Thomas Davidson, a professional songwriter and producer currently residing in Bali, Indonesia. I create original music that spans multiple genres—including R&B, rap, country, progressive rock, and metal—each crafted with a story that listeners can connect with on a deep level.

My music is recorded by a diverse selection of artists, who, under mutually beneficial non-disclosure agreements, perform as “ghost cover” artists. As the sole owner of the master rights, I offer these productions for licensing in flexible formats. Artists have the option to engage in profit-sharing agreements, purchase the rights outright, or acquire the masters for unlimited editing and distribution, tailored to their creative vision.

I prefer to conduct business exclusively online, maintaining a discreet approach while delivering high-quality music productions worldwide.

© 2024 Lance Thomas Davidson. All Rights Reserved.

Where Were You, While We Were Getting High?

Lance Davidson

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