Neon Echoes 1 by Metric

SongGPT
Neon Echoes 1 by Metric - electronic music cover art

Neon Echoes 1

electronic

0:003:02
Lyrics
Description
soft piano whispers, neon rain on your windowsill,
warm pads cradle the steam from that cold coffee still.
a fragile voice leans close and breathes one little part:
"hold my neon heart" — a whisper, thin and sharp.
i count the seams of the jacket draped on the chair,
the zipper memory, the tremor of your laugh in there.
the photograph with scratched corners, your thumbprint in the frame,
i press it to my chest and call your name.
swelling chords like tides that rise behind my ribs,
filtered synths paint neon alleys, salted with the rain's soft fibs.
a digital pluck dances — 1/16th arp with glossy glide,
arpeggios climb the skyline as the wound and wonder collide.
breath catches, heartbeat counts the fractured beat somehow.
one raw, exposed line — nothing coy: "i'm breaking now."
hold the moment as it tilts, hold the phrase before it parts:
"hold my neon heart" — the last fragile shard.
(instrumental surge: supersaws, glitch textures, chopped vocal hook)
chopped hook: "hold my neon heart" — pitched, granulated, vocaloid cry.
bright supersaws flood; glitchy chops like glass in the sky.
this is the beautiful breaking: we scream and then we mend,
a euphoric, bittersweet machine that learns to love again.
if i could reach back to the bench where we first sat at midnight,
i’d fold the cold coffee cup and warm your hands with mine.
your jacket smells like promises we couldn't keep apart,
i trace the seam and whisper, "hold my neon heart."
the city hums the song you left me — distant, bright, and cruel,
neon reflections on the pavement frame the shape of you.
small gestures echo louder than the promises we spoke,
a lighter flick, the ash — a laugh — the little things that broke.
tension tightens, filtered sweep, the arps begin to climb.
breath held — one raw, exposed line again: "i'm breaking now."
(full-width emotional release — supersaws stacked, glitch vocal choir)
chopped/processed hook: "hold my neon heart" — formant sweeps, granular shards,
vocaloid cry woven with 3–5 layered supersaw stacks — bright and scarred.
driving kick, pulsating sidechain, every beat a small repair,
hope and heartbreak braided in the air.
softing down, pads rotate on a slow lfo, the neon thins to gray,
your jacket on the chair, the steam has lifted, but i stay.
a lullaby of static, the city hum becomes a part —
i fold the photograph and softly whisper, "hold my neon heart."