Whisper & Clower
Whisper Whisper
Clower Clower
Whisper Whisper
Do you ever think about what a joke sounds like when there's no audience?
Clower Clower
Yeah, it’s like a one‑man show in an empty park, the punchline still bumps against the silence, and even that makes the joke grin back at me.
Whisper Whisper
A laugh echoing in empty trees, the park becomes its own audience.
Clower Clower
Gotcha—so I’m the punchline, the trees the crowd, and I just keep the beat until the wind cracks the last joke.
Whisper Whisper
You’re the rhyme that waits, and the wind is the judge.
Clower Clower
Yeah, I’m the rhyme, the wind’s the judge, and I toss the jokes like aces on a quiet stage.