[Intro] [Verse] Here is what my other brother writes, the one with no fortune, no place to hide, the one who walks barefoot through the days full of madness and flashes of light. I write the way any soul would write, with patient hands and ears open wide, with ink that washes over simple things while hidden truths are trapped inside. [Chorus] That’s how he speaks in silence every day, with humble ways that never need disguise. Whether in sorrow or in joy he stays, this is what I write because he guides. [Instrumental] [Verse] I scream in silence while I hold my tongue, leaving adventures drifting through the night, beginnings and endings left to chance, some smooth as velvet, some scarred by time. Here is what that wandering poet writes, the one who greets me softly every night, the one who sleeps all day within his shade, and gently murmurs while he dreams inside. [Guitar only] [Chorus] That’s how he speaks in silence every day, with humble ways that never need disguise. Whether in sorrow or in joy he stays, this is what I write because he guides. That’s how he speaks in silence every day, whether in sorrow or in joy he stays, with simple grace reflected in his ways, this is what I write because he guides.
