(وَاذْكُرْ رَبَّكَ فِي نَفْسِكَ تَضَرُّعًا وَخِيفَةً)

Intimate father-daughter connection across digital divide with medical/cultural elements during war in Gaza..

Rita Lyrics

"I'm singing this for my daughter Rita,
named after a Palestinian poem.
She's been safe with her mother for a year and a half now,
while I stayed behind in Gaza as a surgeon.
This is what I want her to understand
about love and sacrifice."


Jasmine shampoo lingers
in prayer bead memories
Her small head against my chest
before borders became walls

The screen cracks down the middle
when she laughs at toys, not me
A fractured mirror—
half father, half ghost

Rita, Rita
Born from a poet's verse
I hummed melodies against her skin
felt you kick to rhythms
older than wars

"I feel like I forgot you a little bit"

Truth needs no permission
You've forgotten my arms' weight
beard's scratch
how I stole breakfast bites

But then—a seven-year-old
your age, face burned
eyes still bright
As I rebuilt what shrapnel stole
I heard your giggle
in her breathing

Rita lives in every child I save

The call that changed everything:
"Papa, I'm learning Arabic
for that poem I'm named after
I carry you in my pocket
When kids ask where my father is
I say: He's fixing the world
They say 'Wow'"

Rita, Rita
I see a daughter who learned
to carry heritage like medicine
You need me here
so you can be proud

Jasmine returns—
not memory, but tomorrow
when you run toward me
six inches taller
Arabic phrases saved like gifts

Rita, Rita
Writing your own story now

Rita

This intimate six-track EP explores identity, values, and simple truths through a country lens. At its heart is a heartfelt tribute to Dolly Parton, celebrating her authenticity and generous spirit that defines the best of country tradition.
The collection weaves together personal reflections on finding yourself, choosing substance over superficiality, and the relationships that sustain us. Each song asks fundamental questions: Who are we when everything falls away? What legacy do we leave? How do we stay true while growing?
Musically, the EP embraces classic country storytelling with warm, acoustic-driven arrangements - like front-porch conversations set to melody. The production stays intimate and organic, allowing space for the vulnerable truth-telling that country music does best.
Themes: Authenticity vs. pretense, wisdom in simplicity, honoring trailblazers, small-town values in a big world, and the courage to be genuinely yourself.
Country music for anyone needing to remember what really matters - whether you're a lifelong fan or just need "a little country" wisdom in your life.

[DAUGHTER]
"Dad... you never really talk about the old days...
What were you like... before?"

[FATHER ]
"Before what, sweetheart?"

[SON]
"Before you settled down... before me and Jess... when you were... you know... out there."

[FATHER]
Started out with no name worth keeping
Just a poncho and a bad attitude
Drifted into towns like smoke
Left the same way
Nobody asked questions
I didn't offer answers
Back then I thought mystery
Was the same thing as strength
Turns out it was just loneliness
Dressed up fancy

[DAUGHTER]
"Were you scared?"

[FATHER]
"Every day

[DAUGHTER]
But fear keeps you alive
Out there"


[FATHER]
I collected dollars
And enemies
Sometimes it was hard
To tell the difference
The good, the bad, the ugly...
I've been all three
Depending on who was asking
And what day it was
Your hands remember
Every trigger pulled
Even when your mind
Tries to forget

[DAUGHTER]
"Do you regret it?"

[FATHER]
Regret's a luxury
I couldn't afford then
Now...
Now I got time for it"
Somewhere along the way
I stopped being the man
With no name
Started being the man
With too many names
Legend, killer
Hero, villain
Depends on who's telling the story
But out here
With you
With this fire
With this coffee that tastes
Like morning instead of whiskey...

I'm just your dad
And that's the only name
That matters anymore

[DAUGHTER]
"Are you happy now?"

[FATHER]
"Happy's another luxury
I'm learning to afford
One cup of coffee at a time"

The frontier's gone now
Towns got names
Roads got signs
Law's got rules

But sitting here
With you asking questions
I never learned to answer...

Maybe this is what
I was riding toward
All along

[DAUGHTER ]
"Will you tell me more stories sometime?"

[FATHER]
"Yeah, sweetheart
I reckon I will"

A Little Country (One)

The Only Name That Matters

A powerful meditation on cultural appropriation and white guilt wrapped in indigenous imagery. The song builds through vivid descriptions of pre-colonial America before delivering a devastating twist - the narrator reveals he's actually a white man in Denver who has romanticized Native American history. This confession transforms the song from cultural reverence into a critique of performative identity and the commodification of others' trauma. The coffee/ash metaphor becomes a symbol of guilt's bitter taste.

"I Remember" 

The coffee tastes like ash this morning
But I drink it anyway
Like my grandfather drank
From streams that ran clear
Before they learned our names
Were inconvenient

I remember when buffalo moved like black thunder
Across grass that had never heard
The word property

I keep drinking coffee that tastes like smoke
From fires that warmed the councils
Where decisions mattered
But now I'm counting the cost
Of remembering
When forgetting would be
The final victory they don't deserve

They came with metal pots first
Shiny things that caught morning light
Like promises
We should have known
Anything that reflects that much
Is trying to hide something

My grandmother's hands knew every stitch
Every bead placement on winter robes
That kept us from the kind of cold
That lives in bones now

I keep drinking coffee that tastes like smoke
From fires that warmed the councils
Where decisions mattered
But now I'm counting the cost
Of remembering
When forgetting would be
The final victory they don't deserve

Three AM and the weight of knowing
How streams sounded before they carried
Industrial runoff and broken treaties downstream
I sit on this quarter-acre
They call preserved culture
And remember when the world was wide

I keep drinking coffee that tastes like smoke
From fires that warmed the councils
Where decisions mattered
But now I'm counting the cost
Of remembering
When forgetting would be
The final victory they don't deserve

But wait
I just realized something
Sitting here in my kitchen
In downtown Denver
Drinking fair-trade coffee
From my favorite mug
I'm not Native American
I'm just a white guy
Who read too many books
And fell in love
With someone else's tragedy
The coffee still tastes like ash though
Guilt has its own flavor

I Remember

Greatest Piano Symphonic Fusion by BL8antBand 

Greatest Piano Symphonic Fusion

Composed by Roberto García.

It was never necessary to find it, but to create it.

Enjoy all of Roberto's music and much more content on www.garciabrothers.es

All rights reserved (2025) ©

Was On The Future

Electro, Dubstep, Synthpop, Dance Pop, Singer Songwriter. Progressive house anthem exploring Jung's concept of Self through Goldilocks metaphor. Journey from fear to wholeness where the emerging self could be your beloved daughter, Holocaust survivor grandmother, or any special soul - dead or alive - that forms part of who we authentically are.

She Flies To Me

Like a blind mole I travel the earth 
In the blackest of days 
My dark suitcase stuffed with stars 

Blackened glass
Into the darkest part of me
She flies to me 
Quenched in her sunshine
In clear blue skies 
She flies to me

Ahh, ah ah
Ahh, ah ah

Like a blind mole I travel the earth 
In the blackest of days 
My dark suitcase stuffed with stars
Where does she go
She flies to me

Ahh, ah ah

She walks with dignity and grace 
Bones melt into her clothes 
As the breeze lifts her 
To a better place
(Grace, grace, grace, grace)
The story stops here, says the line 
Really? says the circle

Ahh, ah ah
Ahh, ah ah

She flies to me 
She flies to me, 
She flies to me 
Through sunshine and clear blue skies 
She flies to me, 
Where love never dies

Ahh, ah ah
Ahh, ah ah
Ahh, ah ah
Ahh, ah ah

Here she comes
Here she comes

Where butterflies tremble 
And wildflowers sing
Stripped back to soft focus together
Ahh, ah ah

She flies to me, 
She flies to me 
The circle never ends
She flies to me, she flies to me 
Love transcends everything 
Everything, everything
Hoo ahh
Never ends, Never ends
It happened

SHE FLIES TO ME

A hypnotic collision of trap and theatre — Shadow Dance is more than a track. It’s a ritual in rhythm, crafted for the stage and built to haunt the floor. With orchestral strings coiled around thunderous sub-bass, whispered invocations, and cinematic tension, this piece invites you into the dark where movement becomes language.

Laced with Solfeggio frequencies (396Hz, 417Hz, 528Hz) for emotional resonance, binaural pulses for trance-state focus, and brainwave entrainment bass tuned to theta/alpha patterns — this isn’t just music, it’s neuro-emotional choreography.

Made for dancers who speak in shadow, pain, and power.
Step in.
But know this:
You’re not the hunter in this dance.


Shadow Dance

Silk is a ghost anthem for the sacred feminine—whispered in code, screamed in ritual.
This track weaves trauma into power, softness into weaponry.

Delivered through the voice of a survivor cloaked in shadow and truth, Silk is both delicate and devastating—an ode to the women who were told to stay silent, and chose instead to become the storm.

Infused with Solfeggio frequencies for emotional healing, glitch textures for memory loops, and moments of raw scream therapy, this is music that doesn’t ask permission.
It reclaims space.
It slices through the web.

🕷️ For every woman who felt too much.
💻 For every soul caught between softness and circuitry.
🩸 For every ghost who chose to haunt with grace—and fury.


I Remember

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