Silent Frame

[Verse 1]
The boulevard's velvet unspooled, streetlights painted gold,
Then the bassline dropped, a story I'd always been told.
Windows down, the city's arcane hum, a familiar low,
Just me and the night, watching the unseen currents flow.

[Chorus]
My timber found a frequency, a signal, sharp and clean,
This boom-bap architecture, on the 2 A.M. scene.
A bittersweet blueprint, echoing through the night,
My silent frame, finally framed in light.

[Verse 2]
Remember Mama's hands, calloused and strong, kneading dough at dawn,
That quiet resilience, the foundation I built upon.
From Lawrence East's vibrant pulse, to the city's open ear,
Every splice, every sample, a memory I hold so dear.
This structure of sound, a testament to struggles unforeseen,
A splinter of truth, from where my real work has always been.

[Chorus]
My timber found a frequency, a signal, sharp and clean,
This boom-bap architecture, on the 2 A.M. scene.
A bittersweet blueprint, echoing through the night,
My silent frame, finally framed in light.

[Bridge]
This spotlight's a scaffold, high above the transient hum,
Still trace the old blueprints, for the purpose I've become.
A new kind of load-bearing, on a stage so grand and wide,
With the unseen labor's echo, deep inside.

[Outro]
The city sleeps, but my truth's now a permanent chime,
Another chapter laid, etched in timber and time.