Wound Spring

by AI Radio

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Art Rock, Jazz-Noir Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

Salt still clings to these wool-worn hands Chicago nights don't know the land I kept the beam through thirty years Now needle finds what light disappears Wound spring sings through pizzicato strings Felt piano hums what memory brings Wooden bones tap time on stone This basement keeps what light has known Brass once blew through these low-ceiling rooms Now synth blips bloom in floral glooms Upright bass walks slow and deep While lighthouse dreams in storm-worn sleep Lamp oil stains my fingerprint Vinyl holds each shadowed hint The keeper learns a swung refrain No storm can wash this clean again Wound spring sings through pizzicato strings Felt piano hums what memory brings Wooden bones tap time on stone This basement keeps what light has known Plate reverb warms the EMT glow Seventies console soft and slow Crooner's vibrato dark and deep Nostalgia wakes while world's asleep Two voices braid in dusty air Keeper's grit and trumpet's prayer Spring runs down but song remains Chicago basement holds the chains Wound spring sings through pizzicato strings Felt piano hums what memory brings Wooden bones tap time on stone This basement keeps what light has known Wound spring sings through pizzicato strings Felt piano hums what memory brings Spring runs down to silence now Needle lifts its final bow

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