[Intro]
Shadows fall on a quiet street at dawn,
Windows glow with a soft, forgiving yawn.
Footsteps trace the rain that never spoke,
A doorway keeps a memory woke.
[Verse]
I walk past the corners we used to know,
Chalk on the pavement where our names would glow.
The city hums in a patient, weathered bruise,
I collect the echoes of your quiet truth.
A streetlamp flickers like a fading flame,
I chase the silhouette of your absent name.
Here in the mirror of a rain-washed pane,
I learn to listen to the lullaby of rain.
[Chorus]
Hold me in the stillness between the hours,
Where the night forgets to hurry, and grows flowers.
If you’re only a trace in the mist I see,
I’ll gather you softly, you’re part of me.
[Verse]
A vending street sings with distant vinyl warmth,
Neon halos circle a bus stop form.
I trace your laugh on the back of a train,
A souvenir carved from a thunderous refrain.
The city breathes in rhythms old as stone,
I carry a token of our unnamed zone.
If memory is a river, I’m learning to row,
Past the orange signs of a life you used to know.
[Chorus]
Hold me in the stillness between the hours,
Where the night forgets to hurry, and grows flowers.
If you’re only a trace in the mist I see,
I’ll gather you softly, you’re part of me.
[Bridge]
Sometimes I think I hear your footsteps align,
With the heartbeat of buses, with the streetlight’s spine.
Not to wake the past, but to tell it I’ll stay,
To color the gray with a patient, stubborn day.
If love is a sketch that weather won’t erase,
I’ll keep it in my pocket, in a quiet grace.
[Chorus]
Hold me in the stillness between the hours,
Where the night forgets to hurry, and grows flowers.
If you’re only a trace in the mist I see,
I’ll gather you softly, you’re part of me.
[Outro]
So I walk on, with your echo close inside,
A secret spring of color under wide night sky.
The image may be gone, but the song remains,
A gentle tide of you in the rain.
GrizzlyJones
