Debut album · 2026
Larry Hans
Ten songs about the life of Mary, in an order that cannot be shuffled: this is not a collection, it is a story. It begins in an ordinary house in the middle of the night and ends asking for one last companion.
Between the first song and the last there is room for a carpenter walking down the village hill with fresh timber and falling in love, a girl fetching water from the river and singing on the way home, a young mother crossing the hills of Judea in a hurry, the cold of Bethlehem, a wedding that ran out of wine, a cross, an empty tomb and an everyday prayer. None of it is told as a holy card: each song walks into the scene.
Larry Hans sings all ten and never puts himself in Mary's place: he narrates from outside, like someone retelling what he was told and cares far too much about. The only time he lends his voice to anyone is the second song, where Joseph speaks. Much of the album is addressed to Jesus — that «mi Jesús» that keeps returning; three songs speak directly to Her.
And it is held together by threads that run from beginning to end: the nylon-string guitar carries the verses, the pre-chorus is always left hanging, unresolved, and the chorus behind it resolves it; the final chorus lifts a whole tone; and a solo violin signs off every goodbye. On top of that base, each song brings its own signature — trumpets, a recorder, frame drums, hand claps, a cello, a music box.
Every song has its own page, with the full lyric, the player and links to all three stores. Tap any of them.
Album opener · first single
In the deepest part of the night a man opens his eyes, and She is sitting on the bed — close enough to touch Her blue mantle. He says nothing: he can't. The album opens with the scene that gives it its name, told by someone who still doesn't quite believe it, over trumpets that greet from a distance instead of announcing.
Read the lyric and listen →Romantic ballad
Joseph walks down the village hill at dusk, carrying fresh timber for his workshop, and She appears «soft as the breeze». He can't manage a greeting. That same night he can no longer sleep. It's the only song where Larry doesn't narrate from outside: he lends his voice to Joseph and tells the falling-in-love from within.
Read the lyric and listen →Mystical pastoral
Before the angel, before the story began, there was a girl who fetched water from the river and sang on the way home. The song stops right there, in the stretch nobody tells, to look at the young woman who already was who she was long before anyone asked her.
Read the lyric and listen →Second single · declarative blast
Mary leaves Nazareth the moment the angel goes and crosses the hills of Judea with the haste of faith. Elizabeth opens the door, sees her, and cries out. Here the album leaves intimacy behind and proclaims: brass with bite, backing vocals and a refrain that qualifies nothing — it repeats identically all three times, on purpose.
Read the lyric and listen →A big one · written to resonate with mothers
It was cold in Bethlehem, there was no room at any inn and the cradle was dry straw. The song doesn't stop at the pretty picture: it walks into the stable, with a young, exhausted mother and a man holding her hands each time she broke. It was written so a mother could recognise herself in Her, not in a holy card.
Read the lyric and listen →Festive and danceable — the album's breath
The wine ran out in the middle of a wedding and She knows before anyone else. It's the only song made to be danced to — hand claps, tambourines, a party rhythm — and at the same time the one that best explains what it means for a mother to intercede: she knew it, believed it, wanted it, asked for it.
Read the lyric and listen →The dark centre of the album
The dark centre of the album. The Cross, told from the Mother who watches and can do nothing. A cello carries the whole song; no brass, no party, no easy comfort. It is the track you have to cross in order to reach the next one.
Read the lyric and listen →Easter jubilation
And on the third day the whole band comes in: shouted hallelujahs, brass and Easter drums. With a care you only notice reading slowly — the song never says She was the first to see, it says she was the first to believe. That is the difference between poetic licence and the truth.
Read the lyric and listen →Devotional
The prayer of every day, the one said without thinking. A music box opens it, and the song travels a whole life on the same repeated phrase: first for my own, then in the dark hours, at the end in my final hour.
Read the lyric and listen →Closing track
The end. A bare guitar and a simple request: that when the moment comes, it be She who is waiting. The blue mantle of the first song returns and the album closes its circle — She came looking for you, now it is you asking to go. A solo violin holds the last note, the longest on the record.
Read the lyric and listen →The album opens and closes on the same image, the blue mantle. In the first song She comes down to your house in the middle of the night; in the last, it is you asking to go to Hers and be received in that same mantle. In between, a whole life goes by: Joseph falling in love, the Annunciation, Bethlehem, the wedding at Cana, the Cross, Easter and, at the end, the prayer of every day.
I don't know your name or where you live, but the map says you were here. Thank you for putting this music on in your house, in your car or in your headphones, at whatever hour it was — every flag below is someone who stopped by to say hello.