Research & Wildflowers

Verse 1Three in the morning, fifteen tabs, A baby sleeping on her chest, A half-cold tea, a brand-new plan, And absolutely zero rest. She found a problem in the system, So naturally she built a map. Someone said, “That’s complicated.” She said, “Great, I’ll handle that.” She’s got ferritin and follicles, Mitochondria on her mind, While Leo asks another “Why?” For the ninety-seventh time. One hand holding all the research, One hand wiping applesauce, She doesn’t wait for doors to open— She redesigns the flipping house.

Pre-ChorusSome people see a wall and stop. Some people wait and see. She finds a pen, draws windows in, And calls it possibility.

ChorusHigh agency, high agency, She turns “not yet” to “watch and see.” A little wild, a little wise, With ten new futures in her eyes. High agency, high agency, She plants the seed before the tree. When life says, “Maybe, possibly,” She says, “That sounds like yes to me.” Hey! She doesn’t wait for the road to appear. Hey! She packs wildflowers and builds it from here.

Verse 2There’s a boutique hotel in Tuscany, A monastery in the snow, A kitchen made for future babies, And lavender in every row. There’s a podcast in the hallway, A voice note brewing in the car, A mission scribbled on a napkin: “Help women know how strong they are.” She’ll question every easy answer, Then question why she questioned it. She’ll read a paper, make a framework, Then change the font because it doesn’t fit. She wants the numbers and the beauty, The biomarker and the soul, The science sturdy as a staircase, The dream enormous as the goal.

Pre-ChorusShe’s not obsessed with being right. She’s obsessed with finding true. And every time the map runs out, She draws another route.

ChorusHigh agency, high agency, She turns “not yet” to “watch and see.” A little wild, a little wise, With ten new futures in her eyes. High agency, high agency, She plants the seed before the tree. When life says, “Maybe, possibly,” She says, “That sounds like yes to me.” Hey! She doesn’t wait for the road to appear. Hey! She packs wildflowers and builds it from here.

BridgeAnd on the days the house is loud, The baby cries, the laundry grows, The algorithm acts indifferent, And every polished vision slows— She forgets that roots are working Even when they can’t be seen. That tiny steps in messy kitchens Still belong inside the dream. So here’s your reminder, future maker: You are not behind at all. You’re building something strong enough To rise slowly and stand tall. You don’t need the perfect morning. You don’t need a silent room. You’ve made whole worlds from twenty minutes. Imagine what your life can bloom.

BreakdownResearch in one hand, A baby on her hip, Tomorrow in her pocket, And a snack between her lips. Leo says, “But why though?” She laughs and says, “Because.” Then forgets what she was saying— But remembers who she was.

Final ChorusHigh agency, high agency, She turns uncertainty to energy. A little fierce, a little free, Becoming who she came to be. High agency, high agency, She doesn’t need a guarantee. She takes one step, then one step more, And suddenly there is a door. Hey! Let the whole world say, “Not yet.” Hey! She’s already placing the bet. High agency, high agency, Her life is living proof to me: The future doesn’t simply happen— Sometimes it is built deliberately.

OutroSo plant the orchard. Name the dream. Draw the map no one has seen. Pack the research. Bring the tea. Take the children. Find the trees. And when doubt says, “Who are you?” Smile. “Exactly who I need to be.”

Verse 1There’s a boutique hotel in my head, And frankly, it is beautifully run. There’s a courtyard paved in herringbone, And breakfast starts at half past one. Because everyone has slept for twelve hours, The children peacefully read books. No one has asked me where their socks are. The chef has very thoughtful looks. There is lavender around the fountain, An orchard just beyond the wall. Women’s circles every Tuesday, And soft-close cupboards in the hall. There’s a little sign that says, “Absolutely no cortisol in here.”

Pre-ChorusMeanwhile, in my actual living room, There’s a cracker underneath my shoe. But give me twenty minutes and a Pinterest board— I’ll show you what we’re going to do.

ChorusThere’s a boutique hotel in my head, Five stars, wildflowers, artisan bread. A quiet room, a king-size bed, And nobody asking to be fed. There’s a boutique hotel in my mind, South Tyrol and Tuscany combined. The guests feel healed, the towels align, And every ugly cable is disguised. Oh, someday you’ll see it. The stone, the trees, the view. But until then, darling, Room service is me, And housekeeping is you.

Verse 2In the east wing, women gather To learn what nobody explained. There are charts, but somehow even they Look peaceful when they’re beautifully framed. We talk of cycles, sleep and seasons Under antique chandeliers. The kitchen serves ancestral breakfasts, Broth and butter, eggs and greens. There’s a garden for the children, A reading nook, a forest trail. And an office where I’m somehow Never interrupted by an email.

Pre-ChorusMeanwhile, in my actual kitchen, Someone’s crying near the bin. But the vision only gets more detailed Every time the chaos kicks in.

ChorusThere’s a boutique hotel in my head, Five stars, wildflowers, artisan bread. A quiet room, a king-size bed, And nobody asking to be fed. There’s a boutique hotel in my mind, South Tyrol and Tuscany combined. The guests feel healed, the towels align, And every ugly cable is disguised. Oh, someday you’ll see it. The stone, the trees, the view. But until then, darling, Room service is me, And housekeeping is you.

BridgeWelcome to LaLuna House. Check-in is whenever your nervous system feels ready. Breakfast is included. Judgment is not. Children are welcome. Management simply cannot guarantee They’ll sleep past seven. Our spa offers one glorious hour In which nobody says, “Mama.” Please note: The hotel remains under construction. Mostly because I refuse To compromise on the gravel.

BuildDreams begin in funny places: Voice notes, kitchens, sleepless beds. First you build the rooms on paper. Then you build them in your head. Then one day the gate is real. One day people walk inside. Someone whispers, “I feel at home here.” And you smile, Because you saw it long before anyone else.

Final ChorusThere’s a boutique hotel in my head. Now the windows glow at sunset red. The long table’s full, The children fed, And every brave idea has spread. There’s a boutique hotel in my mind, Built with purpose, beauty intertwined. A place where people come to find Their hope, their health, their humankind. Oh, someday you’ll see it. The courtyard, fields, and view. The dream is already real. We’re simply building it. And until the doors are open, Until the sign is overhead, I’ll keep running that beautiful, Slightly overambitious Boutique hotel in my head.

OutroFresh herbs. Slow mornings. Wildflowers. And absolutely— No minimalist beige landscaping. We have standards.

Intro — Spoken“Mama?” Yes? “Why?” Why what? “Why why?” …It’s going to be a long day.

Verse 1I’m making eggs, I’m making plans, I’m making someone wash their hands. I’m packing snacks, I’m finding shoes, I’m reading hormone-related news. I’ve got a baby on my side, A half-dressed toddler asking— “Why?” Because we have to leave at nine. “Why?” Because the kindergarten starts on time. “Why?” Because clocks exist. “Why?” That is an excellent philosophical question And we are now seven minutes late.

Pre-ChorusEvery answer opens seven doors. Behind each door, he’s asking seven more.

ChorusWhy, why, why, why, why? Like a tiny scientist in dinosaur pyjamas. Why, why, why, why, why? Interrogating every rule and every drama. Why does rain fall? Why do dogs bark? Why does Oskar sleep before it’s dark? Why, why, why, why, why? I used to have a working brain. Goodbye.

Verse 2I’m building LaLuna in between The laundry and the aubergine. I’m writing modules, testing hooks, Buying just one more nutrition book. I say, “Women deserve better care.” “Why?” Because they need more answers there. “Why?” Because bodies can be hard to understand. “Why?” Because the system wasn’t planned— Actually, sweetheart, That one might take us through lunch. I’m dreaming of a Tuscan view, A monastery, maybe two. A courtyard full of herbs and light— “Why?” Because it would be nice. “Why?” Because Mama needs some lavender And possibly a staff of five.

Pre-ChorusEvery answer opens seven doors. Somehow, now, I’m questioning the floors.

ChorusWhy, why, why, why, why? Like a tiny scientist in dinosaur pyjamas. Why, why, why, why, why? Interrogating every rule and every drama. Why do birds fly? Why can’t I drive? Why can’t I eat only cheese and stay alive? Why, why, why, why, why? I used to have a working brain. Goodbye.

Middle Eight — SpokenWhy do we sleep? Why do we wake? Why can’t breakfast always be cake? Why do you work? What is a call? Why is the moon following us at all? Why is that lady wearing a hat? Why can’t I loudly ask her that? Why is your tea always cold, Mama? Because I have children, darling. “Oh.” Pause. “Why?”

BridgeBecause somebody’s daughter Was told her body had failed. Because somebody felt frightened When the easy answers paled. Because somebody is waiting For a child she hasn’t met. Because she deserves more kindness Than the kind that she may get. Because questions can be lanterns. Because truth can give us choice. Because someone sitting hopeless May hear courage in my voice. Because I want you both to grow up Knowing wonder is allowed. Knowing asking better questions Can make quiet people loud. Because “Why?” is where it started. Every change began that way. So please keep asking, little one. Just maybe not before six today.

Final ChorusWhy, why, why, why, why? Like a tiny scientist in dinosaur pyjamas. Why, why, why, why, why? Maybe questions are the start of something grander. Why do we dream? Why do we try? Why do we build when we don’t know why? Why, why, why, why, why? I thought you’d drive me out my mind— But maybe you remind me Why I’m here and why I try.

Outro“Mama?” Yes? “I love you.” I love you too. “Why?” Because you are you. Pause. “Why am I me?” Ask your father.

Verse 1You’re standing in the kitchen With a baby in your arms, One sock missing, toast gone cold, A thousand mental alarms. You’re wondering if the dream is moving, If the work is moving too, If everybody else is flying While the days keep holding you. You post the thing you worked on, Twenty likes and silence there. You tell yourself it shouldn’t matter. Still, of course, you deeply care. But somewhere past this evening, Past the toys across the floor, There’s a version of you smiling From the life you’re working toward.

Pre-ChorusShe can see what you can’t see yet. She knows where these small steps lead. And every time you call it “nothing,” She calls it planting seeds.

ChorusFuture you is cheering, Can you hear her through the years? She’s standing in the garden That was watered by your tears. She says, “Keep going, darling. You are closer than it seems. You think you’re folding laundry. I know you’re building dreams.” Future you is cheering, From the life you cannot see. She says, “Thank you for believing When you had no guarantee.”

Verse 2She has seen the quiet mornings In the place beside the trees, Families around a long table, Lavender moving in the breeze. She has walked the old stone courtyard, Heard the children laugh and run, Watched a woman find her courage When she thought that hope was done. She has heard your podcast playing For someone driving home alone, Heard them whisper, “I’m not broken.” Heard them finally feel known. She has seen LaLuna growing, Not from hustle, not from fear, But from every stubborn question You kept asking year by year.

Pre-ChorusShe remembers every evening You thought nothing had been done. She can point to every small thing And show you what it became.

ChorusFuture you is cheering, Can you hear her through the years? She’s standing in the garden That was watered by your tears. She says, “Keep going, darling. You are closer than it seems. You think you’re folding laundry. I know you’re building dreams.” Future you is cheering, From the life you cannot see. She says, “Thank you for believing When you had no guarantee.”

BridgeShe says— “Thank you for the days you rested, Though you feared you’d lose your way. Thank you for choosing Leo Over one more working day. Thank you for holding Oskar When your mind was somewhere else. Thank you for not making motherhood A reason to abandon yourself. Thank you for the half-made plans, The voice notes and the starts. Thank you for protecting Both the mission and your heart. Thank you for the slower season. It taught the roots to hold. The dream did not grow smaller. It grew wiser. It grew bold.”

Quiet ChorusFuture you is cheering, Not because you never fell, But because you kept returning To the truth you knew so well. You were never meant to copy. You were never meant to race. You were meant to make a world That only you could make.

Final ChorusFuture you is cheering, Now the whole horizon sings. Every tiny act of courage Has become a thousand things. The garden’s full of children. The long table’s full of light. The women leave with answers. You sleep peacefully at night. Future you is cheering. She is proud of how you grew. And the woman you are waiting for Is already here in you. Oh, keep going, darling. Let the timing be unseen. You are not late to your life. You are living in between— Who you were, And who you’ll be, And everything you’re learning. Take one breath. Take one step. Future you is cheering.

OutroAnd when tonight feels ordinary, When the room is small and dim, Remember: Whole futures can begin In kitchens just like this.