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Firerose grew up chasing the sound of a bird. In Sydney, where glass towers rise above the gum trees and the harbor shines, the rainbow lorikeet is everywhere, bright green wings, a chest streaked with color, a call that cuts through the noise. Most people hardly notice them. To Firerose, they were signs. “Every time I saw one, I felt like God was reminding me I wasn’t alone,” she says. “It was a message, there’s beauty, there’s hope, there’s light.”

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That light wasn’t easy to hold onto. Her childhood was marked by profound sadness and confusion, the kind that makes a child grow up fast. Music and art were the only places she felt safe enough to be herself. While other kids were playing sports or gossiping in schoolyards, she was filling notebooks with lyrics, turning every heartbreak into songs. “It was how I survived,” she says simply. “Songwriting was my lifeline.”

That survival instinct carried her through a life that has tested her at every turn. Abuse followed in different forms, first as a shadow over her youth, later as a force that tried to strip her voice away. Addiction nearly killed her in her twenties, dragging her into desolation and despair, until a night in an LA County jail cell cracked something open. She describes the moment as an encounter with God, an overwhelming peace that entered her soul when nothing else could. “I had reached the end of myself,” she remembers. “And that’s when I gave my life to Him.”

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She has been sober since 2016, but that didn’t mean the hardships stopped. For years afterward, she lived under the weight of another abusive relationship, isolated and silenced, prevented from controlling her own music career. And yet, paradoxically, her voice was still reaching millions. Her singles “New Day” and “Plans” climbed into the Top 20 on the Billboard Adult Contemporary charts, and she appeared on stages from the Grand Ole Opry to Good Morning America and The Kelly Clarkson Show. Still, even as the spotlights flickered, she often felt unseen. The opportunities were real, but the choices were not hers to make. Through it all, she kept writing in secret, songs that became prayers, reminders of the lorikeet’s call: there is still beauty, there is still hope.

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SHINING ARMOR is the first time since, she has stood fully in her independence, making music that belongs entirely to her. The record’s title track was born out of that revelation. Co-written with a fellow survivor, “SHINING ARMOR” dismantles the fairy tale of a knight on a white horse. “I had to learn there was no one coming to save me,” she says. “I had to be my own knight in shining armor. God gave me the strength, but I had to choose to fight for myself.” The song soars as both confession and anthem, a message to anyone who has felt trapped: you are your own rescue.

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On “WAR IS WON,” Firerose sings against the despair that comes when lies seem louder than truth. Written in the middle of a smear campaign designed to break her spirit, it became her declaration of faith. “It’s not about someday winning,” she says. “The war is already won. Love wins over hate. Light wins over darkness.”

“RISE UP” captures her phoenix moment, written when she felt knocked down but not destroyed. Its chorus is a vow: no matter how hard she’s hit the ground, she will rise again. And on the deeply personal “GOOD GOD ONLY YOU,” written quietly at a piano in the depths of abuse, she put into song what kept her alive: “Only You were there beside me, only You were there to guide me.”

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Taken together, SHINING ARMOR is a resurrection of sorts. It carries the weight of a life marked by pain, abuse, and addiction, yet transforms it into testimony. The production is lush, but the core is raw: a crystalline voice, unflinching lyrics, and a spirit that refuses to be broken.

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Even now, with the album complete and her independence hard-won, Firerose still returns to nature when she needs grounding. She walks her puppy at sunset, watching the light thread through the trees, listening to music the way she did as a child. When a flash of green and rainbow wings crosses her path, it feels like a benediction. “Those birds carried me through my darkest years,” she says. “They reminded me there was still color in the world, even when everything felt gray.”

SHINING ARMOR extends that reminder outward. It is Firerose’s story of survival, but it’s also an invitation. “I hope people hear these songs and know they’re not alone,” she says. “That no matter how much pain you’ve been through, you can rise. You can be your own knight in shining armor.”

 

 

 

 

Firerose is an internationally,

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