What I couldn’t shut out then is the reason I begin.
Maybe when she painted you, she gave her heart away.
I left you once, but I still hold on.
This place remembers what we had back then.
You drew the water, you drew the sky — a lonely light against the night.
I didn’t plan to start making music. I just had things I couldn’t say any other way.
Merritt Sandssince 2026
No plans. No schedule.
I write while it hurts.
Four of them are written. They go out two weeks apart — three weeks was a long time to sit on songs that already exist. The fifth one is a third finished and I keep walking away from it. It hurts too much to stay with, so it gets no date until it’s done.
Cut the first vertical for the debut. There are two seconds of almost nothing before the last line, and every instinct says tighten it. It stays — that pause is the whole song.
The first release is set for 17 October. Not a Friday, and not an accident — it’s my mother’s birthday.
“Still Love You” was going first, and it’s the safer song. “Now You’re the Sound” goes instead, because it’s the one that explains why any of this started.
Pre-save the first one. After that it just shows up.