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Pavel Panin

Halie Loren_Sway Live

Andrea Bocelli

Christophe - les amoureux qui passent

Pink Martini  - Amado Mio

Richard cliderman - moon tango

When routine meets romance on the doorstep, “She and Mr. Brown” delivers a smooth, tongue-in-cheek twist on temptation.

She and Mr. Brown

Neon incense rising through the rafters
Hollow hymns rehearsed for manufactured rapture
Paper crowns trembling over borrowed halos
Mirrors warp the faces into saints and shadows
Hands lifted high but the floor keeps shaking
Hearts beat loud but the sound feels faking
Smoke curls slow like whispered scripture
Frames blur out in a holy mixture

Whisper louder, echo over
Hush now, closer, turn it over
Ring the bells, the choir’s breathing
Noise dressed up like something holy
Count to seven, break it open
Hands together, eyes still frozen
Say the words that keep repeating
Tell me if the silence’s speaking

Static trembling underneath the choir
Faith on fire but the flames grow tired
Screens glow bright like stained-glass windows
Every shout just a shadow in the echoes
Ticker tape falling like secondhand prayers
Torn confessions tangled in electrical wires
Crowd hum thick like smoke in the rafters
Praise runs thin but the pulse runs faster

Whisper louder, echo over
Hush now, closer, turn it over
Ring the bells, the choir’s breathing
Noise dressed up like something holy
Count to seven, break it open
Hands together, eyes still frozen
Say the words that keep repeating
Tell me if the silence’s speaking

Glass eyes stare, devotion borrowed
Truth runs dry in a well gone hollow
Shaking hands draw crooked halos
Grace sold cheap in plastic rainbow 
If every voice is screaming louder
Which echo do we even follow
If every signal means salvation
Why does quiet sound like sorrow

믿음처럼 보이던 것들
빛에 녹아 사라졌을 때
Silence cuts like silver
Truth tastes strange

Choir folds like waves collapsing
Pulse drifts out, the room unlatching
Heartbeats sync like forced confession
Faith bends low in quiet suppression
Golden dust settles on the altar
Hands shake slow, the echoes falter
What’s left shining when the light stops bleeding
What remains when the noise stops feeding

Whisper louder, echo over
Hush now, closer, turn it over
Ring the bells, the choir’s breathing
Noise dressed up like something holy
Count to seven, break it open
Hands together, eyes still frozen
Say the words that keep repeating
Tell me if the silence’s speaking

Tell me if the silence’s speaking

Christophe - les amoureux qui passent

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