Музыка для Массажа: Возвращение к покою

Midnight shadows on the plaster wall. Low-lit hallways where the whispers fall. A turning key, a heavy door. We leave our shadows on the hardwood floor. No words spoken, just a steady pull. The silence is heavy, The silence is full. And we sway, Slow and deep, Into the promise we couldn't keep. A lazy circle, quiet chain. Losing ourselves in the warm refrain. Over and over, the cycle spins. Where you end is where it begins. Warm Rhodes chords in the velvet air. The scent of rain in your tangled hair. The needle skips on a dusty groove. Too close now to even want to move. What started as a quiet trace is growing into A crowded space. The walls are closing, the room is small, But we don't care about the world at all. And we sway, Slow and deep, Into the promise we couldn't keep. A lazy circle, a quiet chain. Losing ourselves in the warm refrain. Over and over, the cycle spins. Where you end is where it begins. Just the hiss of the vinyl spin. Letting the dark hotel room In. We keep turning, we keep the pace. Locked forever in this quiet space. No release, just the hypnotic slide. No place left for us to hide.