Title: Lingering [Style: Cinematic Dark Jazz / Ambient Fusion] [Mood: Drunk melancholy, detached observation] [Energy: Slow simmer — brooding, submerged] [Beat: Loose swing, heartbeat pulse] [Instrument: Baritone Sax, Bass Fiddle, Erhu, Low Drums, Soft Flute] [Vocal: Spoken-word, intimate, smoky tired deep tone] [FX: Warm tape compression, vinyl hiss, long-room reverb] [Intro] (Fog of sound — slow pulse, faint breath of flute) [Verse 1] Shaylah's crawled to a corner again, seducing a bottle of rum. She seems so lost, it pulls at the eye, for a time that's never quite done. On the couch Mason sinks into his E, and is happy right where he lays. The textures and smells lux-your-e-ate him, in ways reality never conveys. [Bridge] I walk the rooms, an eye out for damage, and what is merely in disarray Check on the downed souls, and note those sizing them up as prey [Verse] At a table for eight, Thiara and Jake, they slur at each other, with inner blue skies, No danger, no scare, their minds are not there, but each feels the other's the prize. [Verse] Thom, too old for this crowd, Seems to find a way in here somehow, Often leaves with a friend — no foul, no blame. I checked in on my lady, Asleep hours ago, early day, Years back she gave up on these scenes, it was no longer her game. [Outro] (The room exhales. Sax breathes low. Nothing moves.)
