4:00 AM

(A distant car engine starting up. Rain begins to patter softly against a windshield. A beautiful, heavily filtered Rhodes piano chord progression slowly loops in, carrying a deep, warm sub-bass.)(Whispered, with an echoing stereo delay)

Four in the morning...

Empty streets.

Cold air.

(A shuffling, atmospheric Future Garage percussion loop enters—soft, clicking rims and ghost-note hi-hats. The vocals are soft, breathy, and dripping with exhaustion.)

Driving away in the dead of the night

Chasing the lines in the dashboard light

The warmth of your skin is still lingering close

But I’m moving fast like a highway ghost

Four in the morning, the city’s asleep

Guarding the secrets I promised to keep

The radio’s low, playing some sad refrain

Matching the rhythm of rain on the pane.

(The beat drops into a lush, cinematic Chillstep groove. Smooth, emotional supersaws swell gently under the mix, sidechained heavily to a deep, thumping kick. The atmosphere is vast, echoing, and beautiful.)

And it’s four AM, I’m alone in the car

Wondering how we ever got this far

The thrill is gone, the static is dead

Just the echo of you rolling round in my head

Yeah, it’s four AM...The sky is turning grey

And I’m driving my sanity away.

(The supersaws fade out, leaving just the ambient rain sounds, the shuffling garage percussion, and a lonely, plucked guitar note.)

I check the rearview, there’s nobody there

Just a ghost in the seat running hands through my hair

The adrenaline rush has abandoned my veins

Leaving the guilt and the heavy remains

What am I doing? Who have I become?

Hiding away from the rise of the sun

Steering the wheel with a numb, shaking hand

Back to a life that I didn't plan.

(The lush Chillstep drop returns, adding high-pitched, melancholic vocal chops that sound like a distant, crying melody floating in the background.)

And it’s four AM, I’m alone in the car

Wondering how we ever got this far

The thrill is gone, the static is dead

Just the echo of you rolling round in my head

Yeah, it’s four AM...The sky is turning grey

And I’m driving my sanity away.

(The percussion drops out completely. The Rhodes piano becomes dark and heavily low-passed. The vocal is close, dry, and intimate—like a raw thought right before arriving home.)

Ten miles away from the house on the hill

Ten miles away from the life that I built

I gotta pull it together, I gotta erase

The look of your touch that is left on my face

(A slow, cinematic sub-bass sweep builds up a heavy wave of pressure)

Just a few minutes more...

Before I have to pretend...

(The music completely stops, leaving only the ambient sound of windshield wipers swishing left and right. The vocals fade into a hollow echo.)

Swish... swish...

Four AM.

Almost home.

Turn the headlights off.