A1 After hours, the city folds into red, Cedar on the air, old stories in our head. Holly in the doorway, a ribbon on the stair, You smile like December is hiding somewhere there. No grand parade, no need to pretend— Just a quiet kind of Christmas near the end. A2 After hours, the streets go soft and spare, Cinnamon and smoke curling through the square. Somewhere a bell is breathing, far and slow, Like a secret only winter saints would know. We don’t say much, and that’s just fine— This season speaks best between the lines. B (Middle-8) Let the year keep its thunder, Let it fade at the door— Tonight there’s a shelter In the evergreen core. If the world wants a promise, We’ll give it a song, A toast to the tender, To the place we belong. A3 After hours, the last train sighs and goes, Tinsel in a window, a rose in winter clothes. Your hand finds my shoulder like a pledge in the dark, Not the loud kind of love—just a steady spark. Stay for the part where the night turns kind— After hours, Christmas lives in the small, sweet time. Coda (repeatable / ad-libs friendly) After hours… Evergreen… Close your eyes… Hear it ring… After hours… Christmas in… After hours… Stay with me.
