Album World Awareness: Listen Now

Music has always been a mirror — reflecting the truth, pain, and beauty of the human experience. With our new album, World Awareness, we go deeper than sound. We dive into the systems, the silence, the scars, and the strength that shape our lives and the world around us.

This isn’t background music. It’s a collection of real stories, raw emotions, and unfiltered truths — meant to awaken, connect, and empower. World Awareness was created to bring voice to what’s often ignored: injustice, division, healing, resilience, and the quiet power of love and truth. Every song is a moment of clarity — a call to remember who we are, what matters, and what we’re capable of becoming.

The Inspiration Behind the Album

World Awareness was born from lived experience and spiritual insight — and from watching a world that often forgets its soul. These songs are for the unheard, the unseen, the silenced, and the strong. From environmental destruction and systemic oppression to identity, freedom, and unity, this album tells the stories that don’t always make the headlines — but live in all of us.

What to Expect

From the bold honesty of “Poisoned Skies” and “Behind the Curtain,” to the quiet strength of “Echoes in the Silence” and “God In All Of Us,” each track holds a different lens on truth. Whether you’re seeking something reflective, rebellious, emotional, or empowering, World Awareness offers more than music — it offers perspective.

This album is for those who feel deeply, question boldly, and believe change begins from within.

01. Disconnected

“Disconnected” is a song born from witnessing a world that's become addicted to illusion — where screens have replaced real connection, and the noise never stops long enough for anyone to hear their own soul. I wrote this from a place of deep frustration and grief, watching people scroll past each other’s pain, replace eye contact with emojis, and settle for artificial connection while the Earth and our spirits quietly suffer.

But beneath that grief is a calling — a quiet but powerful pull to remember what it feels like to be human again. This song speaks to that moment of realization: that we weren’t made for this constant disconnection. We were made to breathe fresh air, to touch real ground, to cry and laugh and love — not through glass, but face to face, heart to heart.

“Disconnected” is more than just a critique of modern life. It’s a reminder. A call to wake up, to unplug, to come back home — to ourselves, to each other, and to the Earth. It’s about reclaiming our humanity from a system that profits off our separation and reminding ourselves that the most powerful signal doesn’t come from a device. It comes from within.

02. No Roof, No Rights

“No Roof, No Rights” is a song that gives voice to the ones this world tries to silence — the people we pass on the streets, the ones we’re taught to ignore, judge, or fear. But behind every “homeless” label is a full human being with a story, a past, a name… and a right to live with dignity.

These lyrics come from everything I’ve seen and felt — the injustice of a world where wealth is hoarded while people sleep on concrete, where homes sit empty and food is wasted, yet millions are left without shelter, support, or even the basic right to be seen. This isn’t about pity. It’s about truth. About calling out a system that dehumanizes poverty and pretends survival is a moral failure.

But this song is also a call to remember: no one is born broken. People are failed, neglected, and betrayed by systems that value profit over people. “No Roof, No Rights” isn’t just a protest — it’s a reminder that every soul deserves their place. That justice isn’t charity. And that real change starts when we stop looking away.

It’s time to rebuild not just homes — but humanity.

03. Rise From Silence

“Rise From Silence” is for anyone who’s ever felt invisible in their pain. For the ones who smile to survive. For the ones fighting quiet battles that no one sees. This song came from that space — where the weight of the world presses in, and all you want is for someone to ask what’s really going on beneath the surface.

These lyrics are about the strength it takes to feel, to cry, to admit you're not okay — and how powerful it is to speak your truth, even when your voice shakes. We live in a world that throws quick fixes at deep wounds and labels at human pain. But you are not broken. You are not a diagnosis. You are still here — and that means something.

“Rise From Silence” is a declaration of survival and self-worth. It’s about taking back your voice, your truth, your you-ness — no matter how long you’ve been quiet. Healing isn’t pretty. It’s messy, painful, and real. But it’s also possible. And you don’t have to do it alone.

This song is a hand reaching out in the dark — saying: You’re still here. We see you. We need you.

04. The Color Line

“The Color Line” is a song about truth — the kind too many are still afraid to say out loud. It speaks to the injustice stitched into the systems we live under: racism that’s quiet in rooms but loud in lives, passed down through systems, policies, and silence. These lyrics come from the pain I’ve seen, the stories I’ve carried, and the outrage that lives in every name that never got justice.

This isn’t about hate — it’s about healing. About naming what’s been buried, about breaking down the lines that were never real to begin with. The song calls out microaggressions, discrimination, and erasure — not to divide us, but to demand that we finally see and finally listen. Because real love, real unity, doesn’t ignore the wound. It faces it. It owns it. And it fights for something better.

“The Color Line” is not just a protest. It’s a prayer. A vow to rewrite what was written in bias. A reminder that we all bleed red, that justice must be lived, and that silence is never neutral.

This is a call to unlearn, to rebuild, and to rise — together.

05. Poisoned Skies

“Poisoned Skies” is a song for the ones who see beyond the headlines. For those who feel the shift in the Earth, who look up and know something isn’t right. These lyrics come from deep awareness — not of "climate change" as they sell it, but of a world being exploited, manipulated, and covered in lies. While they distract us with blame and fear, the truth is being sprayed above us and stripped from under us — all in the name of profit and control.

This isn’t just about environmental destruction. It’s about the betrayal of something sacred — the land, the air, the water, and our role as caretakers. “Poisoned Skies” is a cry for truth. For remembering that nature isn’t a resource — it’s a living, breathing ally that we’ve been taught to forget. But the Earth hasn’t forgotten us.

This song is a wake-up call. Not to fear, but to awareness. To remember that healing doesn’t come from their systems, their pills, or their policies — it comes from reconnection. From listening. From planting. From waking up and seeing what’s been hidden in plain sight.

The skies may be poisoned — but the truth still lives in the soil, in the rain, and in us.

06. Paper Chains

“Paper Chains” is a song about the illusion of freedom — the kind sold in ads, locked in contracts, and disguised as success. It speaks to the reality so many are stuck in: working endless hours, chasing a life that was never really theirs, while systems profit off their exhaustion, confusion, and quiet despair.

These lyrics come from lived truth — from watching people give everything they have just to stay afloat, while being told they’re “free.” The truth is, most of us were born into a rigged game. Debt, bills, rent, and status were designed to keep us chasing. “Paper Chains” isn’t just a song about economic injustice — it’s about waking up to it. It's about realizing that what binds us isn’t always physical. Sometimes it’s printed paper, empty promises, or a dream that was never ours to begin with.

This song is a call to cut the leash. To remember that you are not a number, not a paycheck, not a product. You are not here to perform or conform. You were never meant to live your life in invisible shackles.

“Paper Chains” is about reclaiming that fire inside — the one that says: This isn’t real. I was made for more.

07. The Forgotten Ones

“The Forgotten Ones” is a tribute to those society has pushed aside — the elders, the wisdom keepers, the quiet souls who shaped the world we live in but are now treated as if they’ve outlived their purpose. This song came from a deep ache I’ve carried — seeing how easily we ignore those who’ve lived through war, loss, love, and survival, just because their stories aren’t trending.

These lyrics are about more than just aging — they’re about what we lose when we stop listening. The people we call “old” carry memories, traditions, and truths that can’t be Googled or replaced by screens. They knew how to build from nothing, how to feel the world without technology, how to love without distraction. And yet… we scroll past them like they’re invisible.

“The Forgotten Ones” is a reminder that wisdom isn’t outdated. That honor isn’t optional. And that if we keep discarding the roots that raised us, we’ll eventually lose ourselves too. This song is about stopping for a moment, sitting beside them, and truly hearing what they have to say — before it’s too late.

Because in their silence lives something sacred. And we can’t afford to forget.

08. The Classroom Cry

“The Classroom Cry” is a song for every soul who sat in a desk and felt the spark inside them dim. For the kids who were told to stay quiet, fall in line, and forget their dreams. This isn’t just about school — it’s about control. About how systems shape minds to serve, not to think. To repeat, not to feel.

These lyrics call out what so many know deep down: that the system doesn’t teach freedom — it conditions obedience. It clips wings while pretending to nurture growth. It teaches facts without truth, structure without soul, and success without purpose. But underneath the silence, there’s a scream. A quiet rebellion. A classroom crying for something real.

“The Classroom Cry” is for the dreamers who never fit in. For the ones who knew there had to be more than grades, rules, and empty praise. It’s a call to remember that you were born to question, to create, to feel deeply — and no standardized system can ever measure that.

This song is a spark meant to spread. A reminder that education should awaken, not suppress. And that the voices they tried to silence… are now the voices rising loudest.

09. Behind The Curtain

“Behind the Curtain” is a song about the illusion we’re all expected to believe — the polished lies, the curated outrage, the stage-managed stories fed to us through screens and slogans. This isn’t just about media. It’s about manipulation. About how truth is edited, emotions are engineered, and division is sold like entertainment.

These lyrics tear through the performance. They speak to the deep knowing that many feel but are told to ignore — that what we see isn’t the full picture, and what we’re told often hides what really matters. Red vs. blue, left vs. right — it’s all a script. A distraction. And while we fight each other, the real power stays hidden behind the curtain.

“Behind the Curtain” is about waking up. Seeing through the smoke. Listening not just with ears, but with soul. It’s a reminder that the truth doesn’t need a platform or approval — it lives in the cracks, in the questions, in the people brave enough to look closer.

This song is a call to rip the mask off the narrative, to stop playing along, and to realize: we are the storm. And the show only continues if we stay silent.

10. Borders Of The Heart

“Borders of the Heart” is a song about the people this world tries to forget — those who cross borders not for luxury, but for survival. The mother carrying her child through chaos. The father escaping war with nothing but hope. The souls caught in political games while simply trying to live, feel safe, and be seen as human.

These lyrics speak to the silent pain that no passport shows. They challenge the idea that a line in the sand can define worth, or that paperwork determines who deserves peace. “Borders of the Heart” isn’t just a song about immigration — it’s about compassion. About remembering that behind every “stranger” is a story, a name, a beating heart just like yours.

This song is a reminder that we are not our flags, our labels, or our status. We are breath. We are spirit. We are each other. And if we lose the ability to care for someone just because they come from somewhere else — then we’ve lost something sacred in ourselves.

“Borders of the Heart” is about tearing down the walls we’ve built within — and redrawing the map in a way that finally includes everyone.

11. Hands Not Guns

“Hands Not Guns” is a song born out of heartbreak — the kind we keep seeing on the news, in our schools, in our streets. Another name. Another child. Another life lost to a system that keeps choosing weapons over wellness, fear over humanity. This isn’t just about gun violence — it’s about the deeper wound underneath: disconnection, pain, and the lie that power comes from force.

These lyrics are a plea — not just to put the guns down, but to look closer. To see that we weren’t born to hurt each other. We were made to hold, to heal, to lift. Our hands weren’t meant to pull triggers — they were meant to create, comfort, and connect.

“Hands Not Guns” is about rewriting the story. It’s about teaching the next generation that vulnerability is strength, that peace isn’t weakness, and that the strongest thing we can ever do… is choose love anyway.

This song isn’t just a protest — it’s a prayer for something better. A world where grief doesn’t have to be the norm. Where kids don’t have to grow up afraid. Where we remember that we’re not each other’s enemy. We don’t need more defense. We need more humanity.

12. The Cost Of Beauty

“The Cost of Beauty” is a song for every soul that’s ever looked in the mirror and felt like they had to fix something. It’s for the girls taught to shrink themselves into trends. For the boys told that softness is weakness. For anyone who’s ever been made to feel like they were only worth what they looked like — or how well they could hide their truth.

These lyrics hold the pain so many carry silently. The quiet self-hate fed by filtered images, body expectations, and a culture that profits from insecurity. But this song isn’t just about the damage — it’s about reclaiming the truth. That beauty was never in the gloss. Never in the numbers. Never in the lie that you're “not enough.”

“The Cost of Beauty” asks the real question: What are we sacrificing to be seen as worthy? Our joy? Our softness? Our soul? The truth is, beauty can’t be sold. It can’t be defined by strangers. It lives in our scars, our strength, our gentleness, and our courage to show up as we are.

This song is a declaration. That we’re done buying shame. Done hiding our real selves. And ready to love the parts they told us to erase. Because the most powerful kind of beauty… can’t be filtered.

13. Whispers Of The Past

“Whispers of the Past” is a song for the ancestors — the ones whose names were buried, whose languages were silenced, whose sacred ways were stolen in the name of power and control. It’s for the land that still holds memory. For the blood that wasn’t honored. For the voices that were never truly gone.

These lyrics hold the tension between pain and power — the grief of what was lost, and the strength that still pulses underneath it all. This song doesn’t come from bitterness. It comes from truth. It’s not about blame — it’s about remembrance. About reclaiming the roots they tried to rip out, and rising not through vengeance, but through honor.

“Whispers of the Past” reminds us that history isn’t just in books — it’s in our bones, in our breath, in the rhythms that survived colonization, erasure, and silence. The past isn’t over. It walks with us. And healing begins when we stop pretending it didn’t happen.

This is more than a song — it’s a vow. To speak the names they tried to erase. To carry the light that never died. And to walk forward with the ones who came before us… still at our side.

14. Divided We Scroll

“Divided We Scroll” is a song about the silence beneath the noise — the disconnection we feel in a world that’s more “connected” than ever. It’s about how screens replaced conversations, how comment sections replaced compassion, and how we’ve learned to cancel before we care. The more we scroll, the more we divide. And the more we divide, the harder it gets to see each other as human.

These lyrics call out the culture we’ve built: one where attention is currency, opinions are ammo, and empathy feels like a lost art. It’s not just about social media — it’s about what we’ve lost in the process. Real connection. Nuance. Listening. Understanding.

But “Divided We Scroll” isn’t just a critique. It’s a hope. A reminder that behind every handle is a real person. That we’re not each other’s enemies — we’re just hurting in different ways, and often speaking past each other. This song is a call to unplug not just from devices, but from the mindset that made us forget how to care.

Because love doesn’t need a filter. And truth doesn’t go viral. But both are still alive — if we’re willing to slow down and look for them.

15. The Working Wound

“The Working Wound” is a song for the ones barely holding it together. For the ones who give everything and still feel like it’s not enough. The early risers, the double-shifters, the souls who are told that burnout is a badge of honor and rest is weakness. This isn’t just about work — it’s about the cost of survival in a system that profits off our silence.

These lyrics come from what so many live but rarely say out loud: the pain of being overworked, underpaid, unseen. Of having your body break down while pretending everything’s fine. Of feeling like a number, a machine, a tool — instead of a human being with needs, dreams, and worth that can’t be measured by output.

“The Working Wound” is a call to remember that we’re not meant to just survive. That labor without dignity isn’t noble — it’s theft. And that our time, our health, our peace of mind aren’t negotiable anymore. This song is a reminder that behind every “essential worker” is an essential soul — and it’s time the world started acting like it.

We built the world. We hold it up. And when we rise, we rise together.

16. God In All Of Us

“God In All Of Us” is a song about unlearning everything we were told about what it means to be “worthy.” It’s for the ones who never quite fit into religious boxes, who were told where to kneel, what to say, and how to be — but still felt something real burning in their soul. This isn’t about rejecting faith — it’s about reclaiming it.

These lyrics speak to the truth that’s always been there: that divinity isn’t locked inside buildings, books, or rules. It’s in breath. In emotion. In human connection. In the silence between tears and the wild joy of being fully alive. “God In All Of Us” is a reminder that you don’t have to prove your worth to something greater — because that something greater already lives in you.

This song is a prayer without a pulpit. A sacred remembering. That love is the true religion. That every soul, every path, every broken heart carries a spark of the divine. And that no one is left out — not the seeker, not the outcast, not the imperfect, not the one who walked away and found God in the wind instead. You don’t need permission to be sacred. You already are.

17. Fighting To Be Me

“Fighting To Be Me” is a song for every soul that’s ever been told to shrink, hide, or stay silent just to make others comfortable. It’s for the ones who’ve had to explain their existence, apologize for their truth, or fight just to be seen as human. This song is a declaration — not of anger, but of freedom.

These lyrics come from lived resistance — from refusing to erase yourself for someone else’s version of “normal.” It’s about the war that happens inside when you silence your spirit. And the power that rises when you finally say, enough.

“Fighting To Be Me” is for anyone who’s ever been outcast, misunderstood, or labeled “too much.” It's a love song to the misfits, the quiet rebels, the loud healers, and the ones still gathering the courage to step into the light. This is not about fitting in — it's about belonging to yourself.

This isn’t just a song. It’s a stand. For authenticity. For self-love. For every voice that was told to sit down, but chose to rise. You don’t need permission to be yourself. You are the permission.

18. Seeds Of Change

“Seeds of Change” is a song for the generation that refuses to wait. For the truth-speakers, the protestors, the artists, and the quiet revolutionaries planting hope in a world that forgot how to dream. This isn’t about rage — it’s about refusal. Refusal to inherit a broken system without questioning it. Refusal to play a game designed to silence and divide.

These lyrics were born from fire — the fire of knowing we can do better, and we must. From climate collapse to social injustice, we see the cracks. But we also see the light breaking through. “Seeds of Change” is about the power of ordinary people doing extraordinary things — not tomorrow, but now. Whether you hold a sign, write a verse, or simply refuse to stay silent, you are part of the shift.

This song is not just a call — it’s a confirmation. That we are not too young, too emotional, or too naïve. We are exactly what this moment needs. We are not waiting for permission. We are already rising.

Because when the system says “stay in line,” we grow roots, break stone, and rise anyway. We are the seeds. And we’re already growing.

19. Echoes In The Silence

“Echoes in the Silence” is a song for the ones who never got to speak. The ones who were told to be quiet, to “move on,” to pretend the pain never happened. It’s for the survivors — of trauma, of gaslighting, of emotional suffocation — who carried their truth alone for too long.

These lyrics come from that quiet ache so many know: the feeling of being silenced not just by others, but by shame, fear, or the belief that your story didn’t matter. But silence is not the end. It’s where healing starts. This song is about reclaiming the voice they tried to erase. About finally letting the echoes become truth, not shame.

“Echoes in the Silence” is not about revenge — it’s about recognition. It’s about understanding that the body remembers, the soul never forgets, and that survival itself is a form of strength. It honors both the quiet and the breaking point. It holds space for men who were told not to feel, for women who were told to be small, and for anyone who was told their pain was “too much.”

This isn’t just a song — it’s a witness. To the screams beneath the surface. To the resilience no one saw. To the healing that begins when we finally say, “This happened. And I’m still here.”

20. We Are The Answer

“We Are The Answer” is a song about remembering our power. In a world that tries to divide, distract, and disempower us, this is a reminder that change doesn’t come from the top down — it begins within. In our choices. In our courage. In the way we show up for each other when it matters most.

These lyrics were born from the chaos and confusion we’ve all felt — watching systems fail, leaders spin lies, and the truth get buried beneath fear and control. But through it all, we still rise. Because the light we’re searching for isn’t out there. It’s in us. It always has been.

“We Are The Answer” is for the rebels with heart, the quiet healers, the ones who’ve fallen and still got up. It’s a call to stop waiting for someone to fix the world — and realize that we are the ones we’ve been waiting for. Together, in small ways and big ones, we carry the answer in every act of love, every step toward justice, every truth we refuse to bury.

This isn’t just a song. It’s a movement. A reminder that we don’t need permission to rise. We just need each other. Because when we lead with love… we become the dawn.

🎧 Listen Now

The album is available on all major streaming platforms. Listen on Spotify, or in other platforms and experience the journey of being real, raw, and human.