The kitchen, the soap, the stairs of photographs.
A memorial song for a grandmother, without greeting-card comfort. Just the specifics, which are what you actually miss.
“You're too thin.” — said to everyone, including the dog
A detail like that one is what the whole song gets built on.
“Grandma’s kitchen still smells like Sunday…”
Three things worth telling us
Not “kind and generous.” The small ones. Those are the lines people cry at.
01 —
What she always says
“You're too thin.” — said to everyone, including the dog
02 —
What her house smells like
Sunday gravy and the same lavender soap since 1994
03 —
What she kept
Every school photo, in order, up the stairs
We write from what you give us and nothing else — no invented dates, places or events. Whoever hears this song knows what actually happened, and one made-up line breaks all of it.
Hear it first. Pay only if you love it.
We make the whole song before you pay and play you its chorus. Unlock it and you get that exact recording — nothing gets remade.
- 01 —Tell their story3–5 real details: a nickname, a memory, a habit.
- 02 —Shape the lyricsEdit any line or rewrite a section. Always free.
- 03 —Choose the soundGenre, mood, voice, tempo — with samples.
- 04 —Hear it, then unlockHear the chorus free. Unlock the full song for $29.
Hear the range
Every sample is a real song we made. Styles are shared across the site — yours is written from scratch.
“Ray, you say, ‘We’ll figure it out’…”
0:40“Ten years since the coffee line in Portland…”
0:40“Dad walked you down in his Sunday boots…”
0:40“Biscuit ate the birthday cake and isn’t sorry about it…”
0:40“Dinosaur boots and a very loud roar…”
0:40“Grandma’s kitchen still smells like Sunday…”
0:40
What to include in a custom song
Same person, same story. The difference is how you say it.
01 —
Use their exact words
Always tells me to be careful
“Drive safe.” — every call, right before hanging up
A phrase they actually repeat almost always becomes the chorus. It earns the repetition, because they repeat it.
02 —
Small beats big
Supported me through everything
My third-grade drawing is still on the fridge
A summary is true about everyone. The small thing is true about one person.
03 —
Name it
Taught me to drive
Taught me to drive in the Kroger parking lot
A brand, a street, a time of day. Those are the lines people cry at.
Then we write from what you gave us and nothing else — no invented dates, places or events. Whoever hears this song knows what actually happened, and one made-up line breaks all of it.
A gift that writes back.
Other song gifts end when the music stops. Ours come with a page where they can reply — and we send their words straight to your inbox.
“…Saturday mornings under the old blue truck, you handed me the wrench and called it luck.”
I still have that wrench. Played it three times. Come by Sunday.
Questions people ask
Will it be over-sentimental?
No. We write plainly and invent nothing — no journeys, no angels, no facts you didn't give us. Whoever hears it will know what actually happened, and an invented line breaks the whole thing.
Can the family reply to it?
The song page collects replies, so relatives who hear it can write back on the same page. You get their words by email.
She's not good with links and phones. How does she hear it?
Send her the link and it plays anywhere — her phone, a laptop, the speaker in the kitchen. You can also play it off your own phone and watch her face instead of the screen.