Quiet · Original lyrics · Fictional voice · Lyrics only
The window keeps the last of day,
A narrow gold along the chair.
I fold the hurried words away
And leave a little quiet there.
Paper lantern, borrowed glow,
Hold the room without a claim.
Let the evening come in slow;
Nothing needs to earn its name.
The kettle settles on its ring,
The street begins another tune.
I have no grand report to bring,
Just space beside an open room.
Original lyrics, with no audio recording for this piece yet.
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Which ordinary sound would belong in the arrangement?