Three ominous and melancholic songs about class, gender, and alienation.

Cover art, production, lyrics and singing by: Jessica "Nikki Ceceré" Brown

Simple Songs Lurking around the Corner

And if I'm being assaulted
On the top floor 
And I call 911...

You won't get there
You can't climb up stairs
Of meritocracy life is not fair
Just to use the elevator you need a keycard
You gotta pay
So you won't get too far ..

You won't find
Me on time
Buried in decadence 
I am not the child I used to be
Coming from hard working and lucky
Parents who wanted better for me
The "American dream"
Is alienation 
Not the child I used to be
And hotels are only temporary 
Places to stay

Up in room
322
I'm going to pay
For priviledges in which I had no say
Exclusion just keeping out the good working class
In hotels and neighborhoods gated
Not the elitest ass 
Who kills a dream gone faded
A dream with origins traded

You won't find
Me on time
Buried in decadence 
I am not the child I used to be
Coming from hard working and lucky
Parents who wanted better for me
The "American dream"
Is alienation 
And I am not the child I used to be
And hotels are only temporary 
Places to stay

Cover art, production, lyrics and singing by: Jessica "Nikki Ceceré" Brown

Hotel Elevator Keycard

I want you I want but I don't really 
I just want you to see
Yet I don't want you to watch me watching
From a distance
My limerence inference
Reading between the lines
'Cuz I want to cross the line

If you touched me I would cry 
If you don't you'll have to die
I can hear you talking to me
When your lips aren't moving
When mine are, I'm only talking
To myself 
Something something about 
My mental health
Well this hiding place
Used to help me live
In this empty space
Though as insanity starts to give
Hallucinating imaginary friends
To keep me company 
Has reached its end

I want you I want but I don't really 
I just want you to see
Yet I don't want you to watch me watching
From a distance
My limerence inference
Reading between the lines
'Cuz I want to cross the line

Cover art, production, lyrics and singing by: Jessica "Nikki Ceceré" Brown

Limerence Inference

We don't wear bras on Sundays
Not on our day of worship
Not on our restful sabbath
Making it hard to pray
We don't wear constricting garments 
We are free of the tension 
That lives in our chests
It's our Sunday best

On the holy day
Mother's nourishment isn't profane 
My father isn't afraid to hug me
Older boys they don't touch me 
My same body parts arent more dirty 
If anyone profits from their display
It's their owner
Art and pornography are one in the same

We don't wear bras on Sundays
Not on our day of worship
Not on our restful sabbath
Making it hard to pray
We dont wear constricting garments 
We are free of the tension 
That lives in our chests
It's our Sunday best

Why must I be artificial
To make him protect
And make him respect
Our natural 
Difference?
I know she wears her pjs all day long
And sleeps til noon
As she yells in a yawn 
And worships the moon
While he's watching with the opposite of a swoon
But all I want is a day of worship
All I want is a day of rest
The holy day is also a laundry one
My bra 
Is just in the wash
With the rise of the sun
With the rise of his son
Tomorrow at blood orange dawn
Before the clothes are donned
I will put it on 

On Sunday,someday..

Cover art, production, lyrics and singing by: Jessica "Nikki Ceceré" Brown

We Don't Wear Bras On Sundays

I run out of the house in a floral dress
And attract
Bees that attack
Better cover up in black
Haven't you heard the buzz?
I can't be who I was!

I run out of the house in a floral dress
And attract
Bees that attack
Better cover up in black
Haven't you heard the buzz?
I can't be who I was!

I run out of the house in a floral dress
And attract
Bees that attack
Better cover up in black
Haven't you heard the buzz?
I can't be who I was!

It's over it's over no need to hide
I now wear the pigment
Of yellow bees and butterflies
In my lipstick!

Cover art, production, lyrics and singing by: Jessica "Nikki Ceceré" Brown

The Buzz

Half way between poking a dead bird and staring at a doll in a toy shop’s top shelf
Wonderful disgust
Detached, and awestruck 
I gaze out of body at what I made
I hear the triumphant cry of the animal and the squeak of her legs
Behind me 
And I am at peace.

I hear car crash sounds and commotion burying your words when you open your mouth
I nod along without a doubt
Broken seashells wash up on the shore 
Young women bend down to sort 
The salvageable from the ones to let go
There are some answers to the past that you can't know
I just hear without listening while I float to the coast

Cover art, production, lyrics and singing by: Jessica "Nikki Ceceré" Brown

Detached and Awestruck: Coming up in the World

hey, its been a while.  i hope this track reaches you. i made this song today in a final state of distress.  wish the best for me and keep me strong!


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppOMMZWagB0
original sample ozean - scenic

you'll know if you've been listening

The child wants to have what's in this box
He wants to bite the hard candy rock
And I say if you're a good boy I'll undo the lock

But time takes a long leisurely walk

The old man asks what's in this box
If it's occupied 
By what he could find
Worthy of 
His precious time
And I say it's empty, just kept as a souvenir shrine 
Yet somehow he's still captivated by
A fascination he can't deny
Or maybe his brain is just fried
'Cuz he keeps asking and asking
And others they grow and change 
While I'm still basking
In where I always was

The Box You Wait For

Fire x4 // ft vox by nikki cecere

she is zelda  // ft. Nikki Ceceré

the princess you could never /// ft. Nikki Ceceré

six figures seven feet eight inches // remix // ft. Nikki Ceceré

6 figures 7 feet 8 inches // ft. Nikki Ceceré

In your favour

The shadow of a dark way?

Everybody Wants Some!! (Music

Because The Night - Patti Smith

Let's Dance Like It's 1999 (Prince vs. David Bowie)

The Box You Wait For

N̾i̾k̾k̾i̾ ̾C̾e̾c̾e̾r̾e̾

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