[Intro – Nostalgic, sparse, world instrumentation building] (Kalimba pattern enters solo, joined by a hand drum pulse, filtered vinyl-warmth pad underneath, no percussion downbeat yet — just breath and space) Close my eyes, I'm back where it started Barefoot on the floor where the rhythm departed Every heartbeat is a language I remember A thousand miles from home but I know every letter [Verse 1 – Intimate vocal, offbeat percussion enters] (Offbeat clap pattern locks in, syncopated against a low kick, kalimba continues as counter-melody) Grandmother's hands on a drum made of clay Teaching me the count before I learned to say The names of the streets where the music was born Every worn-out step, every callus, every corn I carry the sound in my ribs like a echo A rhythm passed down through a river's tempo It never left me, it just waited quiet Now I'm letting it rise like a tide [Pre-Chorus – Layers building, tension rising] (Strings swell underneath, percussion doubles in density, subtle riser building toward the drop) Can you hear it, calling from the old days Can you feel it, moving through the hallways This is the pulse that raised me World of rhythm, don't erase me [Chorus – Full arrangement, epic drop] (Big beat drop: layered polyrhythmic percussion — hand drums, shakers, offbeat claps — kalimba melody doubled by strings, full-bodied bass, wide stereo image) This is the world of rhythm Where every drum has a story in it Hands that built it, hearts that lived it I hear my people in every offbeat given World of rhythm, carry me home World of rhythm, I'm not alone [Verse 2 – Pulled back slightly, storytelling] (Percussion thins to a groove, kalimba returns to the forefront, vocal more conversational) I've been to cities where the language changed But the beat stayed the same, never rearranged A drummer in Lagos, a fiddler in Cork Same heartbeat different fork We speak in tempo when the words run dry A downbeat nod, a knowing eye This is older than the borders drew This is the thread that pulls me through [Pre-Chorus – Building again] (Layers reintroduce, tension climbs faster this time) Can you hear it, calling from the old days Can you feel it, moving through the hallways This is the pulse that raised me World of rhythm, don't erase me [Chorus – Bigger, wider] (Second drop, fuller arrangement than the first — additional percussion layer, backing vocal harmonies stacked, low end deepened) This is the world of rhythm Where every drum has a story in it Hands that built it, hearts that lived it I hear my people in every offbeat given World of rhythm, carry me home World of rhythm, I'm not alone [Bridge – Stripped down, emotional peak] (Percussion drops out almost entirely, leaving voice, kalimba, and a single hand drum heartbeat — building slowly) If I forget my name, let the rhythm remind me If I lose my way, let the offbeat find me Every generation left a beat inside me I won't let it end here, I won't let it die [Final Chorus – Massive, all elements combined] (Full epic drop: all percussion layers reintroduced together, strings and kalimba interlocked, widest and fullest mix of the song, backing vocals in call-and-response) This is the world of rhythm Where every drum has a story in it Hands that built it, hearts that lived it I hear my people in every offbeat given World of rhythm, carry me home World of rhythm, I'm not alone World of rhythm, carry me home [Outro – Nostalgic wind-down, mirrors the intro] (Percussion layers peel away one at a time, ending on the same solo kalimba and pad from the intro, fading slowly) Close my eyes, I'm back where it started Every heartbeat is a language I remember Barefoot on the floor where the rhythm departed I'll carry this home... I'll carry this home (Final kalimba phrase, held pad note fades to silence)
