Introduction: Riding the Funnel Cloud With Gigi Perez
Gigi Perez’s brand-new single “Twister” (from her 2025 debut LP At The Beach, In Every Life) drops listeners into the eye of an emotional storm. Released on April 25, 2025, the track expands Perez’s growing indie-folk palette with lyrics that feel part Dorothy Gale, part existential diary entry. Like Mk.gee’s “Alesis” or The Lumineers’ confessional “Asshole,” “Twister” turns personal upheaval into a universal mirror—inviting us to ask what we’re really chasing when the roof blows off our world. YouTube
Verse 1: Catastrophe as Catalyst
“Twister swept away your house / A seed inside you starts to sprout / You walk away so clean”
- Twister = the inciting trauma. Whether literal storm or metaphorical heartbreak, the tornado erases the familiar, clearing ground for change.
- “Seed inside you” hints that disaster germinates growth—new beliefs, new identity, maybe new faith.
- “Walk away so clean” introduces survivor’s guilt: the narrator looks unscathed, yet wakes to nightmares of…
“The witch still meets you in night dreams / She’s sacred and so white”
Perez flips the wicked-witch trope. Purity feels unsettling; fear can dress in white. The witch becomes the subconscious voice that asks the song’s first big question:
“Are you looking for Oz?”
Here “Oz” stands for fantasies that promise safety—new cities, new lovers, social-media reinventions. But the question mark keeps it accusatory: are you actually healing, or just clicking your ruby heels?

Refrain 1: The Lure of Make-Believe
Repeated line: “Looking for Oz?” The triple echo feels like someone tugging your sleeve: admit it—you’d rather live in technicolor fiction than sweep up real-life debris.
Verse 2: Eden, Serpents, and Scapegoats
“You went to the garden late / Met with a long, black and striped snake / Knew your first and last name”
- The garden nods to Eden—post-trauma, the narrator hunts answers in forbidden spaces.
- Snake = both tempter and therapist. It knows the narrator’s “first and last name,” suggesting intimate knowledge of her flaws.
“Asked, ‘Is there someone you’re looking to blame?’”
Blame is easier than introspection. Perez captures the reflex to point at parents, exes, fate—anything but the mirror.
Refrain 2: From Emerald City to Empyrean Heights
The refrain mutates into “Are you looking for God?”—chanted until it feels more plea than question. When escapist fantasies fail, the mind shoots higher, begging cosmic authority for order. Yet the line never resolves, implying God might be just another emerald mirage.
(Implied) Bridge: Spiral of Doubt
There’s no separate bridge, but the refrain’s crescendo functions as one. Each repetition tightens the psychological twister—Oz ⇢ God ⇢ silence—leaving the listener spinning in existential vertigo.
Conclusion: Why “Twister” Sticks the Landing
With sparse acoustic swells and stark imagery, Gigi Perez turns a three-minute song into a thesis on post-traumatic searching. Tornadoes can raze houses, but they also uproot the lies we tell ourselves. Whether you’re eyeing a fresh zip code or a fresh religion, “Twister” whispers: geography can’t save you—accountability might. That honesty is why the track deserves a slot on every “reckoning & rebirth” playlist this year.