[Verse 1]
On a midnight corner where the lanterns hum low,
I keep a tiny glowing map for anyone who’s lost.
Salt on the tongue of dawn, the city breathes and blows,
Pavement still remembers every footprint and every cost.
A soft mélodie that trembles like a moth's hush,
Paper boats on rain, neon kissing tired glass.
I fold these simple moments into something more than us—
A story stitched from light that reaches through the past.
[Pre‑Chorus]
Listen close — the quiet breaks like glass,
A heartbeat turns to timber, then to brass.
Notes unfold like wings, pulling shadows wide;
There’s a compass in the echo, and it points to life.
[Chorus]
Hear the ember in my voice, watch the night unravels,
Light a lantern on the lost street, where our small truths travel.
Hear the ember in my voice, let it push the dark aside,
This is the sound that gathers us, where hope and sorrow collide.
[Verse 2]
I carry cardboard cinemas of childhood on my sleeve,
Songs that smell of orange peels and the backs of summer chairs.
Your laughter is a window cracked, letting warm air leave,
A ribbon pulled through silence—sudden, tender, rare.
We trade our scars like postcards, pin them on the wall,
A constellation of mistakes that still remind us who we are.
I sing of tiny saints and how they taught me not to fall,
The melody becomes a lantern, and you follow to the stars.
[Pre‑Chorus — Variation]
Hear the hush that learned to stand and then to sing,
A fragile kind of courage dressing up in string.
The echoes bend like willow, soft and slow;
They teach the dark to listen, teach the quiet how to glow.
[Chorus — Lifted]
Hear the ember in my voice, watch the night unspool,
We lift like tide at morning, golden, brave, and beautiful.
Hear the ember in my voice — feel the warmth under your skin,
We turn the map of our small losses into roads that lead us in.
[Bridge]
(Tempo swells — let strings bloom, piano falls away then returns)
Once I whispered to the corners, hid my name in lighter rooms,
Afraid to fill the open air with anything that might consume.
But I learned that every flicker is a promise to remain —
I set my hand against the dark, and called you by my name.
[Final Chorus — Big, optional key shift up a half step]
Hear the ember in my voice, now let the darkness know,
Lanterns braided into constellations where the restless rivers go.
Hear the ember in my voice — a tide of salt and sun and skin,
We keep the heat between our palms; we learn to live again within.
[Outro]
Je te chante — a simple line, a ribbon of the dawn,
A mélodie that carries you until the shadows’re gone.
Hear the ember in my voice — an ember turned to flame,
An endless glowing language that will call you by your name.
