Whispered Turn

[Verse 1]
Sawdust on the old pine floor, the fiddles tuned up high,
My worn-out boots felt rooted, though my spirit longed to fly.
Uncle Silas called the figures, like a hawk through morning fog,
Trying not to catch the flicker in your gaze, across the log.

[Chorus]
It’s a whispered turn, a bedrock shuffle, letting go.
This rhythm in my sinew, watching mountain waters flow.
Two steps forward, one step back, under the low-slung lights.
Finding grace in every wobble, turning wrong things into rights.

[Verse 2]
Felt the shift of weight and fabric, as the laughter swelled and died,
Like a new leaf pushing through the bramble, nowhere left to hide.
Each uncertain dip and pivot, a lesson hard and true,
A wren flew past the open window, silent, swift, and new.

[Chorus]
It’s a whispered turn, a bedrock shuffle, letting go.
This rhythm in my sinew, watching mountain waters flow.
Two steps forward, one step back, under the low-slung lights.
Finding grace in every wobble, turning wrong things into rights.

[Bridge]
All those unspoken histories, deep as any spring,
Just for a moment, they were silenced, as the music made us swing.

[Outro]
Yeah, a whispered turn, a sweet rebellion, as the evening takes its hold.
On this old dance floor, stories bravely told.