A lo-fi gospel-confessional ballad, intimate and raw. A smoky female alto delivers half-sung, reverent phrases, swelling from hush to climax like a midnight prayer. Upright piano and faint organ support, leaving space for breath, silence, and testimony. Each pause aches like a secret shared in the dark - a benediction by night itself.

[Lyrics]

Lost and found.
You never know till you do.

I’ll be your umbrella when the sky lets go,
I’ll be your glasses when the world’s a blur.
I’ll be your small lighter when the power’s out,
Your calm in the thunder when you’re full of doubt.

They say what’s lost ain’t always gone,
Sometimes it waits to lean on.

I’m your lost and found when the world spins round,
A friend at your side when you’re feeling down.
Button for your coat when it will not close,
The flower you pressed in a book no one knows.

That one glove you lost, yes sir, I’m her.
I’ll be your map when you lose your street.
That lucky coin waiting under your seat,
I’ll be your charger when your spark runs weak.

I’ve been forgotten and I’ve worn some dust,
Still I’m your mirror when you need to trust.

I’m your lost and found when the world spins round,
Come find me again when you’re feeling down.
I was yours all along, just out of sight.

Just out of sight.

Lost and Found (Night's Benediction)

A lo-fi hymnlike confessional, tender and restrained. A female alto voice, close-mic’d, half-sung and prayer-like, carries the lyrics with aching intimacy. Upright piano and faint organ provide slow, hymnlike chords, swelling gently behind the vocal. The arrangement remains sparse and reverent, every pause and breath given weight, as if whispered in the stillness of night. A quiet hymn of return, reflection, and clarity.

[Lyrics]

I was lost, and you brought me near,
Safe from swells that pull me clear.

What I longed, you kept for me;
Was standing there as sure can be.

I only had to look once more,
To keep hope and see courage soar.

Your calm has carried me through;
And echoed all I hold as true.

O Tell me now, do you feel me near?
Do you see now that I see?

I have strayed, and you've led me home,
Through nights where the bravest fall.

O true guide and my anchor firm;
My harbor of peace through it all.

I was blind, and you've let me see,
Where the shores meet the sea.

O Tell me now, do you feel me near?
Do you see what I now see?

O I was lost, and now I’m here
I was adrift, but now I’m clear

Once Lost, Now Here (My Quiet Hymn)

A lo-fi confessional recorded with late-night intimacy. A female alto voice, close-mic’d and unvarnished, carries the words with aching pauses and dynamic swells. Sparse piano and subdued organ drift in the background, offering space rather than spectacle. Every silence feels weighted, every phrase like a personal admission spoken in the still hours. The track rises and falls like a private testimony - intimate, raw, and vulnerable - ending in a hush that leaves the listener inside the quiet afterglow.

[LYRICS]

Lost and found, funny place
You never know till you do

I'll be your umbrella when the sky lets go
I'll be your glasses when the world's a blur
I'll be your small lighter when the power's out
Your calm in the thunder when you're full of doubt

They say what's lost ain't always gone
Sometimes it waits to lean on

I'm your lost and found when the world spins round
A friend at your side when you're feeling down
Button for your coat when it will not close
The flower you pressed in a book no one knows

That one glove you lost, yes sir, I'm her
I'll be your map when you lose your street
That lucky coin waiting under your seat
I'll be your charger when your spark runs weak

I've been forgotten and I've worn some dust
Still I'm your mirror when you need to trust

I'm your lost and found when the world spins round
Come find me again when you're feeling down
I was yours all along, just out of sight

Just out of sight

Lost and Found (Testimony, Hour of Need)

A lo-fi acapella confessional sung with nothing but the human voice. A warm female alto carries every line with elongated vowels, trembling breaths, and expressive phrasing. No instruments, no strings, no keys — only the unadorned voice in fragile testimony. Each swell rises like a quiet hymn, each pause weighs heavy in silence, creating an atmosphere both intimate and raw. A song stripped to its essence, where melody itself becomes the only companion.

[LYRICS]

Lost and found.
You never know till you do.

I’ll be your umbrella when the sky lets go,
I’ll be your glasses when the world’s a blur.
I’ll be your small lighter when the power’s out,
Your calm in the thunder when you’re full of doubt.

They say what’s lost ain’t always gone.

I’m your lost and found when the world spins round,
A friend at your side when you’re feeling down.
Button for your coat when it will not close,
The flower you pressed in a book no one knows.

That one glove you lost, yes sir, I’m her.
I’ll be your map when you lose your street.
That lucky coin waiting under your seat.

I’ve been forgotten and I’ve worn some dust,
Still I’m your mirror when you need to trust.

I’m your lost and found when the world spins round,
Come find me again when you’re feeling down.
I was yours all along, just out of sight.

Just out of sight.

Just out of sight.

Lost and Found (No Strings, No Keys)

A full confessional brought into focus. Still lo-fi and intimate, but steadier and more resonant than Before the Ink. The voice carries warmth and weight, supported with just enough space to let the emotion breathe. A journal entry set to sound — reflective, honest, and unguarded.

[LYRICS]

Lost and found, funny place.
You never know till you do.

I’ll be your umbrella when the sky lets go,
I’ll be your glasses when the world’s a blur.
I’ll be your small lighter when the power’s out,
Your calm in the thunder when you’re full of doubt.

They say what’s lost ain’t always gone,
Sometimes it waits to lean on.

I’m your lost and found when the world spins round,
A friend at your side when you’re feeling down.
Button for your coat when it will not close,
The flower you pressed in a book no one knows.

That one glove you lost, yes sir, I’m her.
I’ll be your map when you lose your street.
That lucky coin waiting under your seat,
I’ll be your charger when your spark runs weak.

I’ve been forgotten and I’ve worn some dust,
Still I’m your mirror when you need to trust.

I’m your lost and found when the world spins round,
Come find me again when you’re feeling down.
I was yours all along, just out of sight.

Just out of sight.

Lost and Found (Diary Entry)

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 #lofi-confessional