From the recording Who is the Real You?
Who Is the Real You?
A new original release from Mary’s Spirit Walkers
Who Is the Real You? is a deeply personal neo-folk, symphonic rock, country ballad written as a confession, part spiritual testimony, part awakening.
Born from a lifetime of walking through war, healing, loss, triumph, failure, cancer circles, family, and spiritual revelation, this song asks one of the oldest questions ever placed before the human soul:
Who are you beneath the titles, the victories, the wounds, and the stories you tell yourself?
With fingerpicked acoustic guitar, haunting fiddle, rising orchestral strings, and powerful choir arrangements, the song unfolds as a journey through pride, shame, surrender, remembrance, and ultimately… homecoming.
Inspired by the poetic spirit of Walt Whitman and the sacred teachings of Mary Magdalene, Mother Mary, and Holy Sophia, this piece reminds us that beneath every fear, every success, every failure, and every forgotten memory… There remains something eternal:
The one who still loves.
This is more than a song.
It is an invitation to remember.
An invitation to return.
An invitation to discover the real you.
From Mary’s Spirit Walkers—where music becomes remembrance, and remembrance becomes healing.
Lyrics
Who Is the Real You?
(Fingerpicked acoustic guitar… low cello… distant ambient choir… a lone fiddle rises like dawn over old hills.)
[Verse 1]
Before the sun rose with all its fire,
Before the moon gave up its nightly reign,
I sat alone in the early morning,
And asked the question once again.
Brothers… sisters… gathered near,
Travelers on this sacred road,
Who’s the one beneath your skin?
Who’s the soul beneath your clothes?
Not the name your mama gave you,
Not the medals that you wore,
Not the titles that you carried,
Not the battles, not the war.
Not the secrets whispered softly
In the darkness when you’re alone,
Not the victories you polished
Till they gleamed like carved-out stone.
[Verse 2]
This world of trials and tribulation,
Cancer wards and funeral songs,
Broken vows and holy miracles,
Teaches every soul what’s wrong.
I’ve walked proud with my chest lifted,
Like I’d conquered something high,
And I’ve walked bowed down in shame,
Barely able to face the sky.
I have stumbled in my hunger,
I have fallen in my fear,
Mistook ambition for my calling,
Mistook applause for truth sincere.
And I watched the walls come down now,
Watched the stories lose their flame,
Watched the woman I thought I’d built
Disappear without a name.
[Pre-Chorus]
(Mandolin enters… strings begin to rise.)
And still…
Oh still…
Something deeper kept on callin’ me…
A love…
A voice…
A memory older than memory…
[Chorus]
(Full symphonic lift—drums, cello, harmony vocals.)
Who is the real you?
When the masks all fall away?
When the victories are forgotten
And the tears have had their say?
Who is the real you?
When the world has had its due?
It’s the one who still keeps lovin’…
The one still walkin’ through.
Oh the saint…
And the sinner…
The warrior…
And the wounded too…
Beneath it all…
Love remembers…
And that love…
Is the real you.
[Verse 3]
And time, that old and faithful teacher,
Placed new choices in my hands,
Choices that no longer fed me
With the praise of lesser men.
Choices that grew quiet courage,
Choices that could finally see,
That surrender isn’t weakness…
It’s the soul learning to be free.
And I remembered something ancient,
Something older than this skin,
A place before the names were spoken,
Before the world and all its sin.
Before the nations and their borders,
Before the fear and before flesh,
When love needed no explanation…
And every soul was heaven-blessed.
[Bridge]
(Instrumentation drops—just acoustic guitar and choir.)
Life…
Death…
Oh death, old keeper of forgetting…
What power would you ever hold…
If we remembered who we are?
And after all the victories…
After all the failures…
After all the tears…
After all the years…
Who remains?
[Final Chorus]
(Massive symphonic rise—fiddle, drums, choir, layered harmonies.)
This is the real you…
The child of the Divine…
Perfect in your brokenness,
Held beyond all space and time.
In the arms of Holy Mother…
Mary Magdalene…
Mother Mary…
Holy Sophia…
One family…
One fire…
One heart beatin’ true…
And if my soul has any final words…
They’re simple…
They’re honest…
They’re true…
Thank you…
I love you…
This…
This is the real you.
(Choir fades into distant “ahhhs”… acoustic guitar carries the final note into silence.)