6. BLACK WHOLE / WHITE FIRE

Global Nomad Soul

deep space-soul, cosmic gospel, psychedelic R&B

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(Intro — organ, breath, one low voice)

I carried your name
so deep into myself
I lost the sound of it.

Years went by.

Then one morning
I heard you in my own laugh.

(Verse 1)

Some things cross a line
and vanish from the eye.

A star folds inward.
A wave falls through the dark.
A story enters the body
and changes rooms down there.

We stand at the edge
calling it disappearance

because the other side
won’t show us its face.

(Pre-Chorus)

But the dark keeps working.

Deep in the center,
pressure becomes another language.

Something turns.
Something carries.
Something comes through changed.

(Chorus — full soul)

BLACK WHOLE
WHITE FIRE

take it in
send it through

BLACK WHOLE
WHITE FIRE

what disappears from sight
may still be changing you

I have lost enough
to know this much—

some things return
without returning
the way they came.

(Verse 2)

They say the horizon
is where our equations start arguing.

Inside and outside
trade places with the point of view.

Matter falls.
Light escapes.
Information becomes the question
nobody gets to leave behind.

And somewhere in that argument
a strange proposal rises:

the mouth that gathers darkness
may belong to the same whole
that gives the radiance back.

(Refrain — choir)

IN / THROUGH / OUT

(in through out)

IN / THROUGH / OUT

(the whole keeps turning)

(Verse 3 — intimate)

I know a smaller version.

Grief entered
and took every chair in the house.

For months
it answered every door.

Then slowly
it became attention—

the way I notice
who has gone quiet at the table,

the way I stay
when someone tells the truth badly,

the way your absence
learned to radiate
through what I give away.

(Bridge — gospel lift)

Maybe transformation
has a horizon.

A place where one description ends
and another has to begin.

Seed underground.
Food becoming blood.
Breath becoming voice.
A life becoming consequence.

The center stays hidden.

The evidence
keeps arriving.

(Choir)

BLACK WHOLE

(hold it)

WHITE FIRE

(let it shine)

BLACK WHOLE

(carry it through)

WHITE FIRE

(Final Chorus)

BLACK WHOLE
WHITE FIRE

draw it inward
give it form

BLACK WHOLE
WHITE FIRE

every ending entering
another kind of dawn

What crosses the horizon
changes name.

What crosses through a life
changes shape.

And what I thought was gone
is moving through me still—

not as memory alone,

as LIGHT
with work to do.

(Outro — organ and voice)

I carried your name
so deep into myself
I lost the sound of it.

This morning
someone heard me laugh

and asked
where I got it.

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(Intro — organ, breath, one low voice) I carried your name so deep into myself I lost the sound of it. Years went by. Then one morning I heard you in my own laugh. (Verse 1) Some things cross a line and vanish from the eye. A star folds inward. A wave falls through the dark. A story enters the body and changes rooms down there. We stand at the edge calling it disappearance because the other side won’t show us its face. (Pre-Chorus) But the dark keeps working. Deep in the center, pressure becomes another language. Something turns. Something carries. Something comes through changed. (Chorus — full soul) BLACK WHOLE WHITE FIRE take it in send it through BLACK WHOLE WHITE FIRE what disappears from sight may still be changing you I have lost enough to know this much— some things return without returning the way they came. / (Verse 2) They say the horizon is where our equations start arguing. Inside and outside trade places with the point of view. Matter falls. Light escapes. Information becomes the question nobody gets to leave behind. And somewhere in that argument a strange proposal rises: the mouth that gathers darkness may belong to the same whole that gives the radiance back. (Refrain — choir) IN / THROUGH / OUT (in through out) IN / THROUGH / OUT (the whole keeps turning) / (Verse 3 — intimate) I know a smaller version. Grief entered and took every chair in the house. For months it answered every door. Then slowly it became attention— the way I notice who has gone quiet at the table, the way I stay when someone tells the truth badly, the way your absence learned to radiate through what I give away. (Bridge — gospel lift) Maybe transformation has a horizon. A place where one description ends and another has to begin. Seed underground. Food becoming blood. Breath becoming voice. A life becoming consequence. The center stays hidden. The evidence keeps arriving. (Choir) BLACK WHOLE (hold it) WHITE FIRE (let it shine) BLACK WHOLE (carry it through) WHITE FIRE / (Final Chorus) BLACK WHOLE WHITE FIRE draw it inward give it form BLACK WHOLE WHITE FIRE every ending entering another kind of dawn What crosses the horizon changes name. What crosses through a life changes shape. And what I thought was gone is moving through me still— not as memory alone, as LIGHT with work to do. (Outro — organ and voice) I carried your name so deep into myself I lost the sound of it. This morning someone heard me laugh and asked where I got it.

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