SEMPLIFICK: BRIGITTE

### [Verse 1]
The sky is a bruise, the clouds are a weight,
The midnight express is running damn late.
I can hear the steel crying five miles away,
Cutting through dark night, washing out day.
The rain on the rooftop is beating like drums,
Counting the minutes until the train comes.
And the steam from the engine is thick as a ghost,
Right at the corner where I miss you the most.
### [Chorus]
Oh, Brigitte, you’re the storm in the trees,
The cold, bitter chill that freezes the breeze.
The tracks keep on rolling, the wheels gotta turn,
But some bridge behind us is destined to burn.
Yeah, the rain falls in sheets, and the whistle blows long,
And the blues got your name, Brigitte, all through this song.
### [Verse 2]
I sat on my suitcase and watched the black coal,
Wondering how much it costs for a soul.
Every drop on the window is tracing a line,
Like a map of the days that used to be mine.
The headlamp is cutting a hole in the fog,
Shining on water that drowns out the dog.
You can’t catch a shadow, you can’t stop the flood,
And the sound of that engine is deep in my blood.
### [Chorus]
Oh, Brigitte, you’re the storm in the trees,
The cold, bitter chill that freezes the breeze.
The tracks keep on rolling, the wheels gotta turn,
But some bridge behind us is destined to burn.
Yeah, the rain falls in sheets, and the whistle blows long,
And the blues got your name, Brigitte, all through this song.
### [Bridge]
*[Tempo drops heavy, slow blues swing, instruments mimic the rhythmic clatter of tracks]*
Click-clack on the iron, the water runs deep,
A secret is something you just couldn’t keep.
The thunder is talking, it’s calling your name,
But the train and the midnight don’t care about blame.
You’re the sparks on the rail, you’re the grease on the wheel,
The only damn pain that I still want to feel.
### [Guitar Solo]
*[Vocal Improv Space, Piercing High Notes]*
Let it pour... Oh, Brigitte...
Hear that whistle blow...
### [Verse 3]
Now the headlight is passing, the red light is gone,
Leaving me stranded to wait for the dawn.
The platform is soaking, the benches are cold,
And this is the oldest blues ever been told.
Just the smell of the iron, the wet, heavy air,
And a ghost named Brigitte who was never quite there.
### [Outro]
*[Slow fade, heavy rain sound effects blending with a fading bassline]*
Listen to the rain...
Listen to that train...
Brigitte... you’re the smoke on the track.
Brigitte... and you ain’t coming back.
Just the steam in the night...
Out of mind, out of sight.
Yeah, Brigitte...
Let it pour.

2544/7500

### [Verse 1] The sky is a bruise, the clouds are a weight, The midnight express is running damn late. I can hear the steel crying five miles away, Cutting through dark night, washing out day. The rain on the rooftop is beating like drums, Counting the minutes until the train comes. And the steam from the engine is thick as a ghost, Right at the corner where I miss you the most. ### [Chorus] Oh, Brigitte, you’re the storm in the trees, The cold, bitter chill that freezes the breeze. The tracks keep on rolling, the wheels gotta turn, But some bridge behind us is destined to burn. Yeah, the rain falls in sheets, and the whistle blows long, And the blues got your name, Brigitte, all through this song. ### [Verse 2] I sat on my suitcase and watched the black coal, Wondering how much it costs for a soul. Every drop on the window is tracing a line, Like a map of the days that used to be mine. The headlamp is cutting a hole in the fog, Shining on water that drowns out the dog. You can’t catch a shadow, you can’t stop the flood, And the sound of that engine is deep in my blood. ### [Chorus] Oh, Brigitte, you’re the storm in the trees, The cold, bitter chill that freezes the breeze. The tracks keep on rolling, the wheels gotta turn, But some bridge behind us is destined to burn. Yeah, the rain falls in sheets, and the whistle blows long, And the blues got your name, Brigitte, all through this song. ### [Bridge] *[Tempo drops heavy, slow blues swing, instruments mimic the rhythmic clatter of tracks]* Click-clack on the iron, the water runs deep, A secret is something you just couldn’t keep. The thunder is talking, it’s calling your name, But the train and the midnight don’t care about blame. You’re the sparks on the rail, you’re the grease on the wheel, The only damn pain that I still want to feel. ### [Guitar Solo] *[Vocal Improv Space, Piercing High Notes]* Let it pour... Oh, Brigitte... Hear that whistle blow... ### [Verse 3] Now the headlight is passing, the red light is gone, Leaving me stranded to wait for the dawn. The platform is soaking, the benches are cold, And this is the oldest blues ever been told. Just the smell of the iron, the wet, heavy air, And a ghost named Brigitte who was never quite there. ### [Outro] *[Slow fade, heavy rain sound effects blending with a fading bassline]* Listen to the rain... Listen to that train... Brigitte... you’re the smoke on the track. Brigitte... and you ain’t coming back. Just the steam in the night... Out of mind, out of sight. Yeah, Brigitte... Let it pour.

0/500