Silent & Kustik
Kustik
Hey, have you ever found yourself staring at a rain‑slick street and felt like every puddle could tell a story that your heart just can’t put into words? I’ve been chasing those moments on the road, hoping to catch one that sings a bit louder than the quiet. What’s your take on the music that lies in stillness?
Silent
The rain washes the street clean, and in the silence it finds its own song. Puddles reflect more than light; they echo the quiet moments that we rarely hear. When you pause, a puddle can speak louder than a shouted lyric, if only you let the stillness carry it.
Kustik
I hear that. Sometimes the quiet beats are the ones that actually get stuck in your head the longest. And if you listen close, the city hums its own secret song right under the drizzle.
Silent
I think the city hum is a background lullaby, a steady breath that keeps the moment alive. In that quiet pulse I find the quiet beat you’re talking about, a hidden rhythm that feels more real than any loud chorus. It’s the part of the noise that never leaves the edges, waiting for a pause to speak.
Kustik
That’s the kind of whisper that keeps the city breathing, a pulse you can feel in your boots when you stop to breathe. It’s the quiet that says, “I’m here,” even when the world is shouting.