(Lo-fi beat starts, smooth and slow. A gentle vinyl crackle and a soft, looping piano chord.)
(Intro)
Yeah…
He watches the city shrink in the rearview mirror's frame.
Just a silhouette, a whisper of a name.
He’s drivin' 'til the streetlights all dissolve to stars,
Leavin' behind the noise, the hurry, and the scars.
(Verse 1)
He trades the asphalt for a path of dirt and stone,
Lets the siren's echo fade out on its own.
Backpack sittin' light, the weight is off his soul,
Just a water bottle and a need to be made whole.
No billboard glare, just sun-dusted haze,
Been countin' cracks in pavement for too many days.
Now he's countin' rings inside a fallen cedar tree,
Decipherin' the patient language of the leaves.
The air is different here, it’s thick with pine and earth,
A quiet testament to slow and steady worth.
(Chorus)
And the world gets quiet here, the static's gone.
He finds the rhythm in the dusk and dawn.
Just the whisper of the wind, a low and steady hum,
A soft green pulse beneath the beat of his own drum.
Yeah, the world gets quiet here, he lets his breathing slow,
Watchin' emerald moss on river stones just grow.
No need to speak, no need to prove or even try,
Just him beneath an endless, peaceful sky.
(Verse 2)
He finds a spot where the creek begins to bend,
A place where hurried thoughts can finally meet their end.
He watches water skippers dance on liquid glass,
Lets anxieties and timelines slowly pass.
His phone is off, no signal bars to even check,
Just the gentle current coolin' on his neck.
A cardinal flashes red against the green,
The realest picture that he's ever seen.
He notes the way the light filters through the canopy,
A living stained-glass window, made of branch and tree.
(Chorus)
'Cause the world gets quiet here, the static's gone.
He finds the rhythm in the dusk and dawn.
Just the whisper of the wind, a low and steady hum,
A soft green pulse beneath the beat of his own drum.
Yeah, the world gets quiet here, he lets his breathing slow,
Watchin' emerald moss on river stones just grow.
No need to speak, no need to prove or even try,
Just him beneath an endless, peaceful sky.
(Bridge)
He leans against an oak, a hundred years of calm,
Feels the ancient bark press into his palm.
This tree ain't worried 'bout the mortgage or the news,
It's just standin' strong, payin' nature's dues.
And for a second, he feels that stillness in his chest,
Puttin' all the noise and chaos to the test.
He ain't a king, he ain't a pawn, he's just a part,
Of somethin' bigger than the anxious beatin' of his heart.
(Outro)
Yeah… the world gets quiet here.
So quiet…
He closes his eyes… just listens.
(Beat slowly fades, leaving only the soft piano loop)
Just the wind…
And the water on the stones…
(Piano fades out. The sound of a gentle creek and rustling leaves remain for a few seconds, then silence.)
