Create contemporary R&B male vocal lyrics centered on the theme of the unwritten etiquette of parallel universe grocery runs, where you keep bumping into 7 slightly different versions of your childhood best friend who you lost touch with 12 years prior. Music parameters: 92 BPM, D major mode, core instrumentation: warm warped Fender Rhodes playing soft bebop chords, muted finger-slap electric bass, brushed swing snare drums, reverb-drenched vibraphone flourishes, occasional muted trumpet ad-libs. Emotional atmosphere: soft vulnerable swagger, warm bittersweet contented longing, conversational flowing structure with no strict verse-chorus form, lyrics weave casual late-night voicemail cadence, 90s R&B conversational tone, and subtle jazz poetry phrasing.
歌词
[Intro] [Verse] Aisle nine by the herbal tea I saw who you used to be Twelve years since you spoke to me Now you’re version two or three Different jacket, same old grin Where do I even begin? The etiquette says don't step in Just let the multiverse spin [Hook] Parallel aisles, different lives Six or seven versions survive Waiting for the clock to strike five Keeping the memory alive [Verse] Version four had a silver ring Buying every expensive thing Didn't feel the winter sting Or the weight that silence can bring I nodded once and walked away Nothing left for me to say In this neon-lit display Of a long forgotten yesterday [Pre-Chorus] The Rhodes playing soft and low Tell me where did the time go? Brushed drums moving real slow Watching the fluorescent glow [Chorus] Seven ghosts in a grocery store I don't know you anymore Twelve years washed upon the shore Looking for an open door Bittersweet and feeling strange Nothing stays within the range Everything is bound to change In this cosmic interchange [Bridge] Vibraphone drips like summer rain Hiding all the subtle pain Trumpet blowing through my brain Trying to remain sane It’s a jazz-poetry kind of night Underneath the checkout light Nothing feels exactly right But everything is shining bright [Verse] Version seven looked me in the eye Underneath a plastic sky I almost stopped to ask him why We let the friendship fade and die But he just grabbed a paper bag Left me with the jet lag Of a conversation on a snag Waving a white surrender flag [Post-Chorus] So I’m drifting through the rows God only really knows How the heavy feeling grows When the sliding doors close [Hook] Parallel aisles, different lives Six or seven versions survive Waiting for the clock to strike five Keeping the memory alive [Outro]
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