“When the Dust Starts Asking Questions”

This song is about our Mums and Dads getting old. Three sisters huddle in their shared bedroom after midnight, knees tucked under a blanket that's too small now. The oldest, barely thirteen, has just found a single grey hair tangled in Mum's old brush. She holds it up to the window where the moon turns it silver, and her voice, still breathy from lullabies, cracks just a little as she shows it to the others. The ten-year-old leans in, eyes wide, asking if that means growing up is like moths burning out. The youngest, eight, thinks it's moon-dust learning to talk. They whisper about how Dad's laughs used to fill the house like summer storms but now echo from farther away, and how Mum's humming misses notes like dropped stitches. The paper fireflies they made last year are starting to spell words none of them understand yet. The oldest promises she'll keep the porch light on forever, but the youngest wonders if she'll shrink first. When the dust settles on the sill, it feels like it's listening. They blow gently on it, half-expecting answers, and decide that if growing hurts, they'll do it together-slowly, with candle milk and moth wings. In the quiet, they promise the dark isn't blind, and that shining isn't over just because you're getting smaller. 🔴©Music, lyrics and videos are, 2025 B.A.R.S. Music. All rights reserved.Boundless Ambitions Recording Syndicate🔴