[Intro]
Soft light hums in a quiet room, a pale gray glow,
The wooden floor remembers footsteps from long ago.
[Verse]
A table sits center stage, black and calm and still,
Armrests like quiet hands that wait for a gentle will.
No windows, only air that moves in a lazy sigh,
Headrest shadows tracing lines where secrets softly lie.
Bright circle overhead pours clarity on skin and grain,
Concrete calm around the breath that trembles like a vein.
A room that holds its breath, a pause before the rain,
I walk the line between the hush and what remains.
[Chorus]
In this light I hear a signal, soft as a prayer,
A memory trying to rise up from the chair.
Tell me what you’re waiting for, what you want to say,
Let the quiet lift the noise and show us the way.
[Verse]
The walls absorb the echoes of a distant lullaby,
Footfalls fade to footprints that the dusk can’t justify.
I trace the edge of time along the table’s cold veneer,
A map drawn in the margins of a moment we won’t shed near.
The headrest holds the shape of all the names we never spoke,
The wooden frame remembers every vow that time broke.
But here the air is patient, every breath is a new page,
We write our courage slowly, leave the fear outside the cage.
[Chorus]
In this light I hear a signal, soft as a prayer,
A memory trying to rise up from the chair.
Tell me what you’re waiting for, what you want to say,
Let the quiet lift the noise and show us the way.
[Bridge]
If the room could listen, would it hear us clear and true?
Would it carry our small resolutions like morning dew?
We rearrange the silence, tilt the shadows into place,
And find a different rhythm in the stillness of this space.
[Chorus]
In this light I hear a signal, soft as a prayer,
A memory trying to rise up from the chair.
Tell me what you’re waiting for, what you want to say,
Let the quiet lift the noise and show us the way.
[Outro]
The light keeps circling softly, a steady, patient dawn,
We rise together with the room, and the fear is gone.
GrizzlyJones
