Neighbour's Radio
par PassepartoutFR · extrait de l'album Sound System Sunday

par PassepartoutFR · extrait de l'album Sound System Sunday

Whispers through the wall, a distant radio hum,
A melody that calls, beneath the moon’s dim.
Old vinyl grooves, the tunes they weave,
Songs from yesterday, we can’t retrieve.
Echoes of the past, they softly play,
A rhythm that recalls, a distant day.
The old man’s laugh, the jazz refrain,
Through the thinest wall, a familiar strain.
Radio, come alive in the night,
With your gentle voice, you light our flight.
Songs that echo, in the heart’s embrace,
We’ll dance forever, in your rhythmic space.
The sun dips low, the shadows grow,
Your voice still flows, where we know.
From the other side, a serenade,
In the quiet night, we’re never afraid.
Radio, come alive in the night,
With your gentle voice, you light our flight.
Songs that echo, in the heart’s embrace,
We’ll dance forever, in your rhythmic space.
Through the wall we hear, your timeless song,
In the midnight air, we are along.
Echoes of the past, a timeless grace,
With you forever, we’ll find our place.