A Minor Dance

It starts with distant thunder born under skies

dressed in ochre

Pressure rising up and over the anticipating land

Under layers of white noise

and through the static, sounds a voice

I want to hear the song it sings again

I remained outside, with every nerve alive

Lightning struck without remorse

and gave a cue to move indoors

The TV died, as did the lights

In the dark the radio came to life

Under layers of white noise

and through the static, sounds a voice

I want to hear the song it sings again

The secret station of my choice...

Forgotten music in the noise

inviting me to dance a minor dance

Faded and ethereal music that is dying to be heard

Desperate to mesmerise and capture our hearts

Wander in beauty, and wonder where I've been...

Faded and ethereal music that is dying to be heard

Desperate to mesmerise and capture our hearts (again)

Aided by a thunderstorm

I came upon this station from old days

I intended to seek it out again when I need shelter from the rain

I wander in beauty, and wander where I've been