[Intro]
In the glow of brass and flame-lit air,
two shadows tilt toward a whispered dare.
[Verse]
Gears turn like a heartbeat under velvet night,
her parasol catches the amber light.
He wears a map of gold along his sleeve,
eyes behind lenses that dream to believe.
They stand in harmony, clockwork glow,
breathing sparks where the warm winds blow.
Her burgundy dress sways with a secret seam,
corset laced tight with a midnight dream.
Goggles rest, not quite a mask or maskless face,
hands fold near the edge of fate and grace.
The room hums soft with a copper listen,
steam sighs cradle each careful whisper given.
Between the rails and rivets, time slows down,
a vow hums softly, not yet worn or worn-down.
He steps closer, the calendar flickers in brass,
she tilts the parasol, shadows pass.
In this small universe of gears and glow,
they reach for a night they might never outgrow.
[Chorus]
Brass hearts beating in a steady glow,
steam songs rise where the lovers go.
Hold the moment in a velvet seam,
stitching courage into a glowing dream.
[Verse]
Windows of glass and embered gold,
minstrels of oil keep secrets told.
They trace the pattern on the floor with smiles,
counting heartbeat pulses in measured miles.
Her laugh ticks like a calendar dial,
his hand finds hers with a fearless smile.
A clockwork choir hums behind the loom,
casting halos over their crafted room.
Parasol shadows stretch and weave,
promises tucked in every lace and sleeve.
The room sighs warm, the gears align,
two silhouettes in a gilded shrine.
No words needed, just a cautious trust,
two steely souls turning toward the just.
[Chorus]
Brass hearts beating in a steady glow,
steam songs rise where the lovers go.
Hold the moment in a velvet seam,
stitching courage into a glowing dream.
[Bridge]
If the night should blink and the day forgets,
they’ll rewrite the map with copper silhouettes.
Goggles fog, then clear as dawn,
in a world where every bolt is drawn.
[Chorus]
Brass hearts beating in a steady glow,
steam songs rise where the lovers go.
Hold the moment in a velvet seam,
stitching courage into a glowing dream.
[Outro]
In the warm room where the gears cling tight,
they vanish soft in the emberlight.
GrizzlyJones
