haunting presence

miss you more while high ft enviously waiting.

the other side / outro

boy made of glass

rotting in the snow

Don’t make a scene.
Don’t let the room see your jaw go soft.
You know what they think of men who flinch
weak, useless, knock-off.
So breathe through the panic
like you’ve practiced since you were eight:
chin up, chest out,
every feeling locked behind the gate.

If they hear the shake in your voice,
they’ll decide who you are before you speak.
A man who loses his footing
is a man they call weak.
So stand still.
Hold the line.
Pretend you’re fine.
Push it down until it bruises.

Men are steady.
Men are stone. 
Men don’t falter.
Men die alone.

What a fucking joke this is.
The script, the silence, the cage we live.
Inside, it’s shame and fear and noise
a storm no one was taught to voice.
What a fucking joke this is
pretending steel when it’s just skin thin.

You learned early that tears
make people step back, not closer.
That a trembling hand
means you’ve already lost composure.
So you keep your sadness folded
in the inside pocket of your shirt,
carry it like contraband,
pray no one sees it hurt.

And every time you break in private,
you swear it’ll be the last.
But your chest is a pressure valve
that no one taught you how to unlatch.
You laugh too loud, you talk too little
anything to look intact.
God forbid someone asks,
and you don’t know how to answer back.

Men are steady.
Men are stone.
Men don’t falter.
Men die alone.

What a fucking joke this is.
The rules, the pride, the walls we build.
Inside, it’s panic wrapped in bone,
a lifetime taught to die alone.
What a fucking joke this is
surviving silence as a skill.

They told you needing help
was the same as being a burden.
They told you asking for comfort
made you less of a person.
But you weren’t born with that lie
it was handed to you like a weapon.
And every man you know is bleeding from it,
silently, perfectly,
just as expected.

Men are steady. 
Men are stone. 
Men don’t falter.
Men die alone. 

What a fucking joke this is.
You’re human, not a monument.
You break, you shake, you feel
and that was never an accident.
What a fucking joke this is
the lie that turned warm boys into cold men.
Let the truth in.
Let the truth in.

real men die alone

When The Sky Is Blue

dark emotional song about looking alive on the outside while fighting silent battles inside. It’s for anyone who hides their pain behind a calm face, anyone who feels too tired to explain, and anyone who keeps surviving in silence.

Dead Eyes

Words (Low Cover)

"The Sound Between Us" is a devastatingly raw ballad exploring the complex intersection of profound grief and reluctant gratitude. Told from the perspective of a mother meeting the young woman who received her deceased son's heart, the song centers on the moment she listens to his heartbeat through a stethoscope—a rhythm that is at once familiar and foreign. It is a story about the terrible beauty of organ donation and the enduring connection between a mother and child that transcends even death.

The Sound Between Us

CYBER CHORD writes songs the way a porch light holds a night: small, steady, and impossible to ignore. I work with AI as a true co-writer, then carve the lyric by hand and shape the track in Suno. The sound leans bare and human—country roots in the soil, a little rock grain in the teeth, and a faith-lit lift that chooses hope without preaching.

These are ordinary-room hymns: rings hidden in cotton, receipt-tape strings, a dress behind rain glass, a sink that cools while you find the words. Silence is an instrument here; sometimes there’s a full bar where the house gets to breathe. If a line can’t survive a campfire and a cracked mug, it doesn’t make the song.

If you’re new, start with the heartbreakers. They don’t shout. They stay. I believe in the holiness of the everyday, and in the quiet bravery of saying the thing before “later” takes it away.

No paid promo, no playlist buys, no cover-art pitches, no dance offers, no cold DMs. If it’s a pitch, the porch light’s off. If you’re a real listener, come in soft: pick one song, leave a genuine note (lyric or timestamp welcome), and hand it to one friend. That’s how this fire stays lit.

May your road stay open, your coffee stay warm, and your day be peaceful.

be kind to everyone
live the life you want to live

"DANCE" the witchdoctor whispers 🕺
"WITCHDOCTOR'S CURSE" out jan 2026

my shed is full of cheap guitars

once i reach 300 tracks i'm smashing all my equipment

Nada Samir is a gifted German singer and songwriter hailing from Frankfurt am Main. Born on June 18th, 1996, she has created a unique sound blending elements of pop, indie pop, and R&B soul. Nurturing her passion for music from a young age, she began writing her own songs at the tender age of 13, and by 16, she was sharing her talent by posting cover songs on YouTube. Her music career took off in February 2020, with the release of her debut single "Your Promise." April 2nd, 2021 marked the release of her critically acclaimed debut album, "Heartbroken." And on January 1st, 2023, she has recently dropped her sophomore album "See You Next Life." Her music is an honest reflection of her feelings and experiences, delving into themes of depression and self-discovery.

New tracks tagged #Sadcore