© 2025 Irrelin. All rights reserved https://suno.com/@irrelin --- This is part 1:3 of “The Quiet Road” – a poetic musical epic in 25 songs. Each track marks a moment in the quiet journey of a man and his car, Lumen, across a changing America. Playlist: https://suno.com/playlist/90a21612-bd4f-4be7-89c4-50d56607620b Written in chapters, drawn from 25 creative prompts in the #NDC_Bingo challenge. For info: https://suno.com/song/9f56e554-5631-4886-8e33-196364318061 --- Cracked glass quiet, the roadhouse breathes. Coffee burns slow, old vinyl grieves. Their voices claw, like thorns in the breeze. They see Lumen, see me—fear drawn thin. A torn page flaps, their truth worn dim. They spit their warnings—batteries doomed to flame. "Your car’s a bomb!" Their tanks sit heavy, oil-slick with shame. "Heavy wheels, breaking the earth!" I trace Lumen’s hood—her panels warm with sun. Their lies split quick, like blacktop in heat. My silence slips slicker than deceit. I stand—enough. The road is mine, their panic sloughs. I stand—enough. Lumen hums, and the dust falls off. They wave their papers—headlines scream of fire. "Batteries blow up like it’s Vietnam!" I say nothing—my answer is motion. Their engines cough, exhaust curls like doubt. Lumen’s screen blinks, a soft beep breaks the cloud. Their voices blur, just static in the wind. My road runs true beneath the spin. Prophets of panic—your tanks spark shame. Choke on smoke from the myths you claim. You clutch your gas like a holy script, but I run clean—no fumes, no slip. You quote disaster, but drive the spark. Your fear’s on fire—I light the dark. "But… the news said…" I stand—enough. The road is mine, their panic sloughs. I stand—enough. Lumen hums, and the dust falls off. Dust swirls behind—the road stretches wide. Lumen’s heart hums—my guide in the quiet. Soft newspaper rustle… silence. Ash on wind… and miles of defiance.
