This is handsomely beautiful 💋💋💋

Trying To Find My keys

Honey

Charm You

Dream Song

the record

In the End It Always Does

Touching Yourself

No Caffeine

if u want

Old Car

Pure Bliss Forever

Forward To The Kill

Title: Nothing Left to Sing 
By: Riot Chick 
aka Katie Fennell 

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Lately, I've been writing songs about the rain
'Cause I think I'm afraid to fly
I was honest in the songs I wrote before
And now there isn't much to write

Lately
Everything I've wanted
I have now
So how do I write from that place?
The only thing I know is what it feels like
To be spinning out of control

I was someone that you had
I didn't mind burning out
Champagne lightness
I invited it
Owning my ghosts finally

But now what do I write about?
'Cause I'm starting to run out
When there isn't much to run from
Start breakin' down the walls

With every song
A love like this
Deserves to be known, so I'll keep
Scatterin' all of that light until tomorrow

I was someone that you had
I didn't mind burning out
Champagne lightness
I invited in
Owning my ghosts finally


Nothing Left to Sing

Title: Toxic Parade 
By: Riot Chick
aka Katie Fennell 

--Verse--
Woke up, your phone already vibrating, notifications inflating, never debating a single thing
Another AI dream, a synthetic gleam, from a digital stream, like a cold, calculating scheme.
Scrolling through feeds, planting silent seeds, for unspoken needs, amongst these empty creeds.
Gotta flex your best self, feeling superficially blessed, putting this carefully curated life to the test, no time to rest
The algo knows your soul, what you’ve copped, what you’ve trolled, losing all self-control, as the screen takes its toll
It’s predicting your moves, finding all your grooves, proving what it disapproves, in these digital reproves.

They tell us it’s progress, for real, supposed to relieve all this stress, a manufactured caress.
But our attention span, it’s shrunk to a quick scan, fitting into their grand plan.
This pixelated screen, a constant, blinding scene, what does it truly mean beyond the digital sheen?
We’re just a data point, a weary joint, trying hard to anoint ourselves with something more potent

--Chorus x1--
OH-OH-OH, WE’RE A GLITCH IN THIS DAMN SIMULATION!
LOST IN THE CONSTANT INFORMATION NATION!
Chasing these fleeting trends, making too many digital friends, waiting for the real, hard ends!
Yeah, we’re wired and tired, like we’re constantly fired (up), never feeling truly inspired!
This is the show, the only place left to go, watching our anxious shadows grow!
Are we even real?! Or just how we feel?! A broken, algorithmic deal

--Verse--
Remember when we just hung out, no screens, no digital shout, no underlying doubt?
Like climbing trees to touch the summer sky, now we push buttons, watch the numbers fly
Used to wait for letters, whispered calls. Now DMs instant, hitting digital walls
The pressure to slay, to win every single day, for the algorithms to display your perfect charade, a toxic parade
Our mental health, yeah, it’s a dwindling wealth, caught in this digital stealth, a silent hell where feelings melt
Used to fish in rivers, clear and deep and wide. Now everybody’s trawling for each other, nowhere left to hide.
Are we too much, or just not enough, always feeling so rough in this artificial fluff? What a laugh

They tell us it’s progress, for real, supposed to relieve all this stress, a manufactured caress.
But our attention span, it’s shrunk to a quick scan, fitting into their grand plan
This pixelated screen, a constant, blinding scene, what does it truly mean beyond the digital sheen?
We’re just a data point, a weary joint, trying hard to anoint ourselves with something more potent

--Chorus×1 [Repeat Above]--

The bytes and the code, a pixelated, crushing load, down this endless digital road
They promised true connection, but it’s just pure reflection, a flawed, manufactured perfection.
A curated truth, yeah, stealing chunks of our youth, without any real-life, honest proof.
Built castles. Sandbox. Now hitting refresh. Digital hell.
Chased ice cream. Heard tune. Notifs haunt. Fake moon
Libraries, wisdom, dusty, slow. Now endless feeds, where truths don’t flow
We hide behind our firewalls, like armor in the dark, throwing rocks and shadows, leaving a bitter mark.
Somebody tweets a cruel word, a digital punch and shove
And you just scroll right past it, ‘cause nobody’s stopping the ‘love’
I’m just tired of it. It’s wrong
So what do we do? Like, you and me? Break through this, or just silently stew in this digital brew

This tilted parade (la, la, la) 
la, la, lalala, la

Where nothing is built, just made
 (la, la, la) 
la, la, lalala, la
Are we even real (Are We?)
ARE WE REAL! ARE WE REAL! ARE WE REAL! (la, la, la) 
la, la, lalala, la
ARE WE REALLY, REAL

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Winnebago

SAMIA

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