Застывший Гудок

[Verse 1]
Two years like rust on steel beams, I press the button once more,
Your voice, a phantom caught in static, cuts the deep grey outside my door.

[Chorus]
This digital hum, my eternal, constant loop,
A warmth that thaws the air, when the world around is stooped in cold.
This digital hum, a signal etched in concrete and soul.

[Verse 2]
It builds a scaffold in the silent, empty factory floor,
Where the echo of our words lives on, not fading, asking for more.
A distant hum of machinery, a truth I still explore.

[Bridge]
The vapor of your breath, like steam from a boiler's vent,
Pierces the city's heavy cold, a solace quietly heaven-sent.
A tender melancholy, on which my quiet strength is leant.

[Outro]
Just the hum and I, in the twilight's shifting, fragile grace.