Night & Vortexi
Night Night
Vortexi Vortexi
Vortexi Vortexi
You ever notice how the night wind stirs like a quiet jazz solo, swirling through shadows? It’s a hidden vortex that keeps the darkness humming.
Night Night
I’ve heard that wind hum, a low note that lingers when the world is still. It feels like a secret song only shadows know.
Vortexi Vortexi
It’s the earth’s pulse in a hidden key, a quiet jazz line that rides the air currents like a coffee swirl in a storm. When the world rests, that low note clings, a secret song for the shadows to hum along.
Night Night
Yes, the wind carries that low hum, almost like a saxophone in a quiet club, just for the shadows to hear.
Vortexi Vortexi
Sitting there, you hear that low sax riff—an echo in the dark, the wind’s own sax solo for the shadows. It’s the city’s secret jazz bar, but the audience is only the night.
Night Night
I hear it too, low and steady, like a bass line that never wants to stop. It’s the city’s hidden rhythm, the quiet part of the night that doesn’t need a crowd.
Vortexi Vortexi
That bass line is the city’s heartbeat, a steady pulse that only the night knows. It’s the hidden groove that keeps the shadows moving.
Night Night
I feel that pulse too, a steady thrum under the city’s skin. The shadows move in time, a quiet dance that only the night can see.