歌词
[Intro] [Verse] Sunlight filters through the stacks in a golden hue I’m tracing fingerprints on pages old and new Between the lines of logic where the secrets grew A silent dialogue that only I can view I’m the keeper of the quiet in the dusty hall Watching shadows stretch and climb along the wall Every spine is standing steady and standing tall Waiting for a reader just to hear the call Smell of cedar wood and the drying glue I find the pieces that they never knew [Pre-Chorus] Yellowed edges turning into brittle gold Stories that the main text never really told Handwritten legacies starting to unfold In the margins where the spirits hold [Chorus] Margin notes and pencil strokes Whispers from the older folks Ink that bleeds and hearts that broke In the silence someone spoke Seventy years of quiet tears Smallest joys and hidden fears We are ink as time nears Echoing through all the years [Post-Chorus] Writing in the white space Looking for a hiding place Tracing every light trace In this sacred book space [Verse] Nineteen-fifty-four a pencil line so thin "I love him still" where the chapters begin Fast forward to the eighties with a neon spin A lonely student hiding in a velvet skin Now it’s twenty-four a ballpoint pressing deep "Will I ever find a promise that I’m meant to keep?" I’m the curator of secrets that the public sleep In the basement of the archives where the shadows creep Smudged ink and the thumbprints blurred Every single heart is finally heard [Bridge] Literary tapestry and sensory mastery Every single entry is a memory factory From the tragic history to the magic majesty I’m reading through the gravity of human capacity It’s a spiritual glint In a cursive print Without a digital tint Or a cold hint [Hook] Read between the lines now See the hidden signs now Everything aligns now In these ancient designs now [Verse] I see a grocery list on a page of Keats Mixing heavy sonnets with the morning meats A doodle of a flower on the war retreats Small human moments in the library seats I shelve the grief and I shelve the mirth Finding what a quiet word is really worth From the day of death to the day of birth Written on the paper of the spinning earth I close the cover and I dim the light Leaving all the ghosts to the velvet night [Chorus] Margin notes and pencil strokes Whispers from the older folks Ink that bleeds and hearts that broke In the silence someone spoke Seventy years of quiet tears Smallest joys and hidden fears We are ink as time nears Echoing through all the years [Outro]
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