Morning breaks without a color
Old echoes stain the air
Fragments hum beneath the surface
A storm still waiting there

Silence pulls every loud noise
We lose control of time
Past returns like rainfall
Too soft to fight, too real

Streets unfold like shifting paintings
Their faces blur and sway
But one forgotten image rises
A night that won’t decay

Silence pulls every loud noise
We lose control of time
Past returns like rainfall, ah
Too soft to fight, too real

Daylight calls from distant edges
Yet time distorts the seam
Old hands rearrange the silence
And spill into the dream

It lingers like a shadow
It whispers through the dawn
A thread that keeps unweaving
A ghost not fully gone