Where do I start (part 1)

“You Should Go to Therapy”

Feed the machine

Screw the Machine

Dead Lights on the Tree

Piano and Orchestra, through music depicts the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Confederacy, formed c.1142. The Confederacy emerged from the Great Law of Peace, compiled by Dekanawidah the Great Peacemaker, Hiawatha, and Jigonsaseh the Mother of Nations. For nearly 1000 years, the Six Nations/Haudenosaunee Confederacy have been a powerful factor in North America.  The examples of equality and liberty provided by the "The Constitution of the Five Great Nations" were ultimately incorporated into part of the U.S. Constitution of 1776. Haudenosaunee ("People of the Longhouse") is the autonym by which the Six Nations refer to themselves. The peoples of the Iroquois included (from east to west) the Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca. After 1722, the Iroquoian-speaking Tuscarora people from the southeast were accepted into the confederacy, from which point it was known as the "Six Nations".

The Six Nations of the Haudenosaunee

Lyrics: 
"THE RIGHT HANDS" by Mark Bloss

They said the ones with gold decide the rules for all the rest,
Then crowned their laws as sacred after years of fear and test.
But people rise when pressure breaks,
And truth demands its due—
A world is built by human hands, not those who own the few.
So, raise your voice for the will of all,
For a world where every soul stands tall.
Let justice breathe where the old lies fall,
And never again let wealth enthrall.
Good must win—
And the right hands aren’t the rich hands,
They’re the hands of everyone.

Once the keepers of the gold became the keepers of the law,
And people bowed to rules that only served the few who saw
A kingdom made of lack, a fear they could ignite—
And slowly all those borrowed truths were carved into “the right.”

But good is not a relic, and good is not a throne.
Good is every quiet heart refusing to be owned.
Let belief be unencumbered, let each voice learn to rise—
The right hands are not the rich hands,
But the ones that open wide.

Gold on the table, writing laws in the dark,
Selling halos to the faithful just to fracture their hearts.
They preach the rules like scripture,
Raise ‘em up ‘til they’re “divine,”
But every little holy law was just a dollar in disguise.

And I’m done with the threats, with the fear they sell,
With the kingdoms built on pockets instead of selves.

But good is not a relic, and good is not a throne.
Good is every quiet heart refusing to be owned.
Let belief be unencumbered, let each voice learn to rise—
The right hands are not the rich hands,
But the ones that open wide.

Good isn’t gilded, good isn’t bought—
Good is the courage to say this stops.
No more thrones made of borrowed breath.
No more gods built on someone’s debt.
Let every soul have room to breathe—

They said the ones with gold decide the rules for all the rest,
Then crowned their laws as sacred after years of fear and test.
But people rise when pressure breaks,
And truth demands its due—
A world is built by human hands, not those who own the few.
So, raise your voice for the will of all,
For a world where every soul stands tall.
Let justice breathe where the old lies fall,
And never again let wealth enthrall.
Good must win—
And the right hands aren’t the rich hands,
They’re the hands of everyone.

The right hands aren’t the rich hands,
But the ones that open wide.

The Right Hands

Omen Mass

Picnic Impromptu

Far Away Dream

I wrote these songs, but told AI how I want it to be sung and how I want the instrumentals to be because I Don't like my voice.. and I don't have money for instruments...hope you enjoy!



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