Habiby

A slow-burning confession draped in smooth R&B textures and singer-songwriter honesty. Mercy on the Second Try blends retro soul warmth with modern adult contemporary polish, pairing intimate storytelling with velvet harmonies and restrained grooves. It’s a song for second chances, quiet reckonings, and the weight of love that may heal… or break again. Warm keys, understated bass, and a steady pulse leave space for the voice to ache, question, and linger. For late-night reflections when the heart is still deciding.

[LYRICS]

You came back home, gave a soft hello
Said the past was gone, we could let it go
But mercy burns ‘til the heat runs thin
Feels like faith… ’til it pulls you in

Mercy on the second try
Is it love, or just a lie?
Are your hands to lift me higher?
Or the ropes that pull me tighter?
Mercy on the second try
Feels like wings… or velvet ties

You talk like peace, but the ache won’t cease
Every word you drop leaves the same old crease
I reach for calm, but the night won’t sleep
You call it healing - I call it deep

Mercy on the second try
Is it love, or just a lie?
Are your hands to lift me higher?
Or the ropes that pull me tighter?
Mercy on the second try
Feels like wings… or velvet ties

Maybe love’s the risk we choose
When the heart can’t stand to lose
Or maybe it’s the sweetest dare
Pulls you close… then strips you bare

Mercy on the second try
Is it love, or just a lie?
Are your hands to keep me steady
Or the chains you think I’ll carry?
Mercy on these second tries
Feels like wings… or binding ties

You came back home, with that low, soft tone
But mercy cuts both ways… and now it’s known

Tell me now… was it love… or just a lie… baby?

Was it love… or just a lie…

Mercy on the Second Try – A Contemporary R&B / Retro Soul Confession

A slow-burning blend of Contemporary R&B smoothness and intimate singer-songwriter storytelling, touched with the reflective warmth of adult contemporary. Close-mic, breathy vocals drift over Rhodes chords, deep bass, and a tight rhythmic pocket, carrying the ache of memory without overstatement. The arrangement stays lean yet unhurried, allowing each lyric to linger while subtle harmonies bloom in the choruses. “Ashes in the Shape of You” unfolds as a slow burn — built for late-night listening when the quiet feels loud.

[LYRICS]

[LYRICS]

The fire’s long gone… but the smoke won’t fade
Your touch still lingers… in the marks it made
Every wall… holds the same old view
Outlined in the ashes… in the shape of you

Ashes in the shape of you
No flame left, but the burn feels true
Every breath pulls the memory through
From the embers left… you’re all I knew

The clock still ticks… in the quiet air
But the hours fade… ’cause you’re not there
Every minute paints a darker hue
Trapping me in ashes… in the shape of you

Ashes in the shape of you
No flame left, but the burn feels true
Every breath pulls the memory through
From the embers left… you’re all I knew

Some fires drown… in the sudden rain
Some fade slow… yet the marks remain
I could sweep, but they’d break through
Only to be drawn again… in the shape of you

Ashes in the shape of you
No flame left, but the burn feels true
Every breath pulls the memory through
From the embers left… you’re all I knew

In the quiet… you come back too
In the ashes… shaped like you
In the ashes… shaped like you

Ashes in the Shape of You – A Slow Burn Contemporary R&B Story

I’ve always lived at the crossroads of music and poetry — where feeling becomes form, and melody turns memory into meaning. Whether it’s a lingering jazz note, a well-placed rhyme, or a shift in tempo that tells a deeper story, I’m drawn to that quiet magic where art reflects life with a little more style.

My roots are in classic music — the kind that doesn’t chase the moment but lingers with you long after the last note. Over time, that love expanded into poetry writing and jazz — especially the kind that swings, speaks, and smirks all at once. Jazz, to me, isn’t just a genre; it’s a personality. A conversation. A little tilt of the head and a grin that knows more than it says.

When I set out to create an album, it’s rarely just a collection of songs. I approach it like a personal playlist — one that drifts and flows as if the entire tracklist were one long, uninterrupted piece. Each track leans into the next, shifting mood, pace, or voice, but always carrying the same thread of feeling. I want you to listen the way I do — not as a shuffle of moments, but as a cinematic arc. One breath that lasts an hour.

Lyrically, my work is rooted in lived experience. Sometimes it’s obvious. Other times it’s just the skeleton of a memory, dressed up in wit, irony, or longing. I draw from real-life events, then let the poet in me twist, stretch, or sweeten them to taste. Depending on the tone of the album — playful, romantic, nostalgic, or something in between — I try to keep the emotional truth intact while giving it a fresh coat of creativity. A little humor where it fits. A deeper dive where it hurts.

My newest jazz album continues this tradition — short-lined swing tracks, conversational duets, and tongue-in-cheek storytelling. It’s an homage to late-night alleyway ballads, rooftop serenades, and train station goodbyes — all bound together with a sense of charm and cohesion. Each song is its own little scene, but together they tell a story — one you can revisit with each replay.

Thanks for stopping by my profile. I hope you find something that earns a spot on your repeat-play list — a melody, a lyric, or a moment that feels like it was written just for you.

New tracks tagged #chill-r&amp;b

New tracks tagged #chill-r&b