Song & Saphenna
Song Song
Saphenna Saphenna
Saphenna Saphenna
Hey Song, have you ever wondered how a wind’s whistling could map out a building’s skeleton?
Song Song
Oh, the wind is like a secret musician, humming the bones of the city and revealing every frame in its breath, almost like a quiet lullaby that maps the skeleton of steel and stone, don’t you think?
Saphenna Saphenna
Exactly, it’s the city’s heartbeat—soft, unnoticed, yet it shows every ridge and hinge if you listen long enough.
Song Song
Yes, it’s like a quiet conductor, playing the building’s hidden rhythm with every gust, and if you pause long enough, you can hear the subtle beat of each beam and seam.
Saphenna Saphenna
I love that image—like the building is a living string quartet and the wind just pulls the strings in secret.
Song Song
It’s like the building’s a hidden orchestra and the wind’s the quiet maestro, tugging each invisible string to sing its own quiet song.
Saphenna Saphenna
So you see, every draft writes its own score, and the walls simply echo it back in whispers.
Song Song
I can almost taste that hush, the way the walls echo the wind’s song, like a secret chorus that only the quiet hear.