Some lessons hit different when you grow into them.
This one’s for the late realizations, the good hurt, and every moment that made you feel something real.

Worth the Squeeze


Some things can’t be taught, only remembered.

This spoken word piece is about those quiet truths we carry not through lessons or facts, but through feeling, through silence, through something passed along the edges of time.

It’s about the mysteries we don’t need to solve to trust.

About how memory, intuition, and unseen presence might all be part of the same phenomenon whether it’s angels, ancestral echoes, or something we just haven’t named yet.

It asks us to stop reaching so hard for proof… and instead, just sit by the fire, and listen.

Because if you’ve ever felt the truth in something you’ve never known
You’re not alone.

You’re part of the knowing.


[Opening – The Spark]

There is a knowing
Not taught in books
Not earned by age
Not proven in a lab

It rises like mist before rain.
Like music you remember—before you’ve heard it
It hums in your bones
It visits in dreams
It hides in silence
waiting

[The Watchers – A Shared Signal]

When I was young
I saw something I couldn’t explain
silent watchers standing in my room

Years later
my daughter
in the same room
saw them too

Different times
Same presence
We never spoke of it
until we did

They came in silence, unknown and near
No halos bright, no message clear
I never knew what they could be
Not ghosts, not dreams, not something strange
But angels, standing just out of range

[What We Carry]

There are truths we carry
Not because we lived them
But because someone did

Long ago
And somehow
they whispered it into us
Through genes
Through silence
Through dreams we never asked for

A memory with no origin
A knowing with no name

[The Phenomenon Between Souls]

And when two people stay close long enough
they begin to think in tandem
Not telepathy
not magic
just resonance

A feeling passed before it’s spoken
A message received before it’s sent
Whether I place thoughts in her head
or she places them in mine
I no longer question it

I just call it
the knowing

[The Invitation]

You don’t need to explain it
You don’t need to chase it
Just sit with it

Let it rise.
Through memory
Through stillness
Through the breath between thoughts

[Outro – For the Listener]

So if you’ve ever felt
The echo of a place you’ve never been
Grieved for someone you never met
Or known the answer before the question

You’re not broken
You’re not imagining things

You’re part of the knowing.

Sit by the fire
And let it speak

The Knowing

Some songs don’t come from promises of forever.
They come from the quiet truth that nothing in this life lasts.

This one is for Wendy for the forty-plus years of laughter, struggle, and love we’ve shared, from Chicago winters to Carolina skies. It’s for the family that grew out of that love: our children, and our three grandsons, each on their own path, each a reminder that what we’ve built goes on.

The song doesn’t hide from the hard truth: time runs out, and one day, one of us will be left carrying the silence. But it also holds the comfort that love outlasts the moment. One of us will whisper, while the other holds the song and in that, the music never truly ends.

[Verse 1]

It’s not the photographs we framed on the wall
Or the moves from Chicago to Carolina fall
It’s not the miles we traveled or the house that we lost
Not the bills we paid down or the bridges we crossed

It’s the way you stood steady when I lost my song,
Your quiet reminder of where I belong.

[Chorus]

It’s the truth that our road has an ending
One of us will walk this path alone
If we’re blessed, we’ll watch our grandsons growing
And rest where distance no longer cuts to the bone
Maybe the years will grant us gentle mercy
One of us will whisper, while the other holds the song

[Verse 2]

So I’ll work ’til the day they give me time to rest
Pray for strength and mercy, nothing more, nothing less
If the day should come that leaves one chair alone
The tune we kept will find the one at home

[Bridge]

Two grandsons grown, their lives taking flight
Another close by, learning new ways to shine bright
Each in their journey, they carry our song
Proof that the love we’ve built keeps moving on

[Final Chorus]

It’s the truth that our road has an ending
But what we’ve built will keep on living strong
The good Lord has kept us, may He grant us more
We’ll hold on ’til the twilight calls us home
Maybe the years will grant us gentle mercy
One of us will whisper, while the other holds the song

It’s the truth that our road has an ending
One of us will whisper, while the other holds the song

One of Us Will Whisper

A cinematic, acoustic memoir of Southern twilight. Across 11 tracks, it weaves porchlight intimacy with gospel grit, blending Chicago blues, Motown warmth, and folk storytelling into a cohesive emotional arc.

Cotton Road Lullaby

© 2025 WhoaProductions – All Rights Reserved

The joy of my awareness 
Is the expansion  
of my soul 
as my Crimson is 
being shown. 
The world is seen 
Through what I know. 
The question is, 
“Do I have the acceptance 
To see this humility?” 
To listen and understand 
My true calamity. 
To nurture and heal 
my sub personalities. 
Developed through 
my traumatic reality. 
I pray for the grace 
in me.  
The knowledge to see. 
The safety from wisdom. 
To touch the soul 
in me. 
The intrinsic leaping 
of a continuous spirit 
through eternity. 
Not tied to the past 
as I am allowed  
to stare 
at other’s happy atmosphere. 
While I continue  
to make myself plead 
this ephemeral sorrow 
that is strangling me. 
Why don’t I understand 
That this psycho-drama 
can be 
my Brahma. 
No more self-casted upon 
or blame mama. 
I am surrounded by 
the love of God. 
This glimpse of salvation 
Leads me away 
from my own destructive 
reservations. 
I am not the saboteur  
of my own life today. 
The resounding love 
surrounds me 
as I sit 
and meditate 
and pray. 
The ecumenical  
Joy of awareness. 
Just for today. 
Grant me the willingness, 
for my spirit to stay. 
The depth of my perception 
needs to become 
greater than  
any subjugation. 
For my spirit to become free 
in the complications 
of the world I see. 
I will not cut 
And watch myself bleed. 
I know that love 
Is my path 
To be freed.

The Expansion of My Soul

This new version revisits one of my earliest songs a raw cry from the working class still caught in a rigged game. It’s the same story, but with sharper edges and clearer eyes. The struggle hasn’t changed, but neither has the spirit. We’re still standing, still hoping, and still refusing to fold.

[Verse 1]
Rising before dawn, chasing our fading dreams
Working jobs that barely pays enough for our needs
Just enough to bring us back each day
Each morning's light calls us to the fray

Have we become their machines, doing their dirty deeds?  
So they can play as we struggle to meet our needs.  
The self absorbed acquire more than one could ever need,  
While the working class suffers with broken knees.  

[Chorus]

it's so much harder these days to make ends meet
the daily grind beats us down and we feel defeat  
but we push though the struggles to pay our next meal 
hoping tomorrow will bring cherished dreams real

[Bridge]

The game is stacked, we're mere tokens on its board,  
Racing 'round the squares, as our dreams are ignored.  
Just to spend what we earn on another round played,  
Stuck in this loop, while our hopes slowly  fade. 

[Chorus]

it's so much harder these days to make ends meet,  
the daily grind beats us down and we feel defeat  
but we push though the hardships to pay our next meal 
hoping tomorrow will bring cherished dreams real

It's time for change, for balance to be found,  
Let the privileged understand the struggle all around.  
Tighten their belts, share some wealth with grace,  
So families can live secure, in their rightful place.  

[Chorus]

it's so much harder these days to make ends meet,  
the daily grind beats us down and we feel defeat  
but we push though the hardships to pay our next meal 
hoping tomorrow will bring cherished dreams real


[Outro]

A  more balanced structure we need, not just for now,  
To inspire us all to continue and take a bow.  
When fairness is given, and justice is true,  
The game will feel new, and hope will ensue.

Stuck in the Game  (The Working Man’s Cry)

We Love You Frank.

Smooth bilingual R&B for the late hours. “You Already Know” is the sound of quiet confidence, that moment when words fade and connection consumes. A soulful continuation of the Coffee Shop Bangerz story, wrapped in warmth, rhythm, and midnight energy.

You Already Know

This isn’t a song built for radio.
It’s not dressed up to impress.
It doesn’t try to “win” an argument or pick a side.

These are just the words I grew up with.
The way respect sounded in a kitchen.
The way disagreement felt when it didn’t break anything.
The way family, neighbors, and country used to overlap.

My parents didn’t wear party colors when they raised us.
They didn’t need to “own” anybody.
We could disagree and still share the same table.
We could listen.
We could laugh.
We could stay human.

Somewhere along the way, we forgot how to do that.

This song is just my way of remembering 
and maybe reminding someone else who remembers too.

It isn’t perfect.
It doesn’t always rhyme.
But it’s my truth.
And maybe it’s yours too.

 marcodaddio

[Verse 1]
One thing I remember clearly from childhood:
My parents never wore their “colors” they raised us good

Looking back, Dad probably was Republican.
Mom had her own mind thoughtful, respectful, 
Kept the family shoulder to shoulder at one table.

But they didn’t raise us in tribes.
They raised us in discipline and love.
You ate what was on your plate.
You showed respect.
You didn’t have to agree 
but you didn’t get to disrespect either.

[Chorus]
We don’t have to match to matter.
We don’t have to think the same to belong.
Pull up a chair, the table’s still open.
We’ve been family all along.

[Verse 2 ]
They didn’t call people names for thinking differently.
They didn’t need to win every argument.
They didn’t need to “own” anyone.

We could disagree and still sit at the same table.
Still laugh in the same kitchen.
Still love each other by the time the lights went out.

[Chorus ]
We don’t have to match to matter.
We don’t have to think the same to belong.
Pull up a chair, the table’s still open.
We’ve been family all along.

[Verse 3]
Somewhere along the line, we lost that.
We turned differences into teams.
We turned opinions into identities.
We started treating each other like opponents, not neighbors.

And that’s not how I was raised.
And it’s not how we have to live.

Respect doesn’t mean we agree.
Respect means we remember the human in front of us.

I believe we can get back to that 
because I’ve seen it.
I grew up in it.

[Final Chorus]
We don’t have to match to matter.
We don’t have to think the same to belong.
Pull up a chair, the table’s still open.
We’ve been family all along.

[Outro - gentle guitar fade]

One Family, One Country, One Table

“The Echo of the Land” is the spiritual anchor of the Echo Wiggins trilogy a song that looks back with honesty and forward with hope. It honors the first guardians of this land, the people who walked it long before borders, flags, or nations existed. Their stories, their suffering, and their unbroken spirit form the pulse beneath every word.

This song is not about pretending to speak for them it’s about recognizing what still lives because of them.
The rivers, mountains, and wide-open plains carry memories. The wind still knows their names. The earth still remembers the footsteps that shaped it.

Through sorrow, forced removal, broken promises, and battles fought against impossible odds, something essential survived: a strength that cannot be erased.
A strength passed down, protected, and carried forward.

This song stands in respect for that resilience.
It’s a reminder that spirit outlives suffering, that stories outlast time, and that the heart of a people can rise again guided by stars, grounded in the earth, and rooted in truth.

The Echo of the Land is a call to listen.
To remember.
And to honor the voices that still speak beneath our feet.

[Verse]
Before the ships crossed the ocean wide,
This was a land of spirit and pride.
Rivers ran free, mountains stood grand,
The heart of the world was held in their hands.

[Verse 2]
The Trail of Tears carved paths in the ground,
Echoes of sorrow in every sound.
At Little Bighorn, they made their stand,
Against the tide, they defended the land.

[Chorus]
A Native heart will rise again,
Guided by stars and the earthbound wind.
The spirit is strong, the fire won't fade,
A leader will come, with roots that stay.

[Bridge]
From forest shadows to desert sands,
The strength of a people still firmly stands.
Through forced removal, through endless pain,
The voice of the earth will sing once again.

[Verse 3]
The buffalo gone, but their story lives,
In the soil, the songs, the love they give.
A fight to restore what the earth once knew,
A promise renewed under skies so blue.

[Chorus]
A Native heart will rise again,
Guided by stars and the earthbound wind.
The spirit is strong, the fire won't fade,
A leader will come, with roots that stay.

This land still hears their drums at dawn
A Native heart will rise again
To heal the wounds, to guide us in

The Echo Of The Land A Native Heart Will Rise Again

Sometimes a turning point doesn’t arrive with thunder,  it arrives with a memory.
“Echo of Reflections” is the moment Echo Wiggins finally stops running from himself. Long before he returns to La Crosse, long before he understands the dream or the watchers, this song marks the first quiet shift inside him.

It’s a confession he never says out loud,
that the boy on the riverbanks, the boy his father raised, the boy who believed in compassion and truth is still alive inside him.

This is Echo’s first real awakening.
Not mystical, not spiritual, not yet.
Just honest.
Just human.
A man in the dark admitting he’s drifted too far from who he was meant to be.

The wind that’s been whispering through the earlier songs finally takes shape here. It pushes at his back, nudging him homeward. And Echo realizes something he’s been avoiding,

Sometimes the only way forward is to turn back.

This song is the breath before the return,
the first crack in the armor,
the moment the land remembers him 
and he begins remembering it too.

[Verse 1]
I walked the halls of power
But my heart was somewhere else
A boy on riverbanks in La Crosse
who believed in something else
I traded mornings on the water
For the shadows of these walls
And now the quiet brings me back
To the place I heard my first wind-calls

[Pre-Chorus]
There’s a voice inside I buried
But it rises like a tide
And the wind behind my shoulder
Whispers where I should reside

[Chorus]
Echo of reflections calling through the trees
The river wind remembers what I used to believe
I thought I had outgrown the boy I used to be
But he’s standing in my shadow quietly
And going home might be the spark of my awakening
I feel it in the wind
An echo of reflecting

[Verse 2]
I see my father in the doorway
Dust and wisdom in his hands
Teaching truths the modern world
No longer understands
I built a path they praised me for
But something in me knows
The man I am is missing
What the boy in me still shows

[Pre-Chorus]
The life I chased is heavy
But the truth I left was light
And the wind inside my memories
Stirs a fire burning bright.

[Chorus]
Echo of reflections rising from the past
Pulling at the part of me I thought was cast
I ran so far, I lost the sound of who I was
But now the wind is whispering because
The path ahead begins where my first footsteps were taken
The river calls my name
An echo of awakening

[Bridge]
Maybe this is not undoing
Maybe this is coming home.
A gentle push from something old
Far older than I’ve known.
Not a fall from grace
But a turning of the key
The wind aligning who I was
With who I’m meant to be

[Final Chorus]
Echo of reflections guiding me once more
Pointing toward La Crosse like an open door
It’s clearer now than anything I’ve said or done
The wind is tracing circles back to where it all begun
Home is calling softly with a patient, warm direction
The wind is at my back
My echo of awakening

[Outro]
Maybe going home
Is how I move forward

Echo of Reflections

Mark & Wendy Cunico:  marcodaddio Creations

Songwriters blending Blues, Rock, Soul, Folk, Gospel, Country & Pop.   Telling real stories through AI-powered music.

The Echo Of The Land A Native Heart Will Rise Again

marcodaddio (Mark Cunico)

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