

It's 2 AM and the city is finally still,
Just breathing the air on a quiet windowsill.
No microphones glowing, no stadium lights to prove,
Just the sound of a heart doing what it needs to do.
Tara's got the notebook open on her knee,
Quinn is listening close to the frequency.
We don't need a polish,
we don't need a sheen,
Just the most human room that there's ever been.
Keep it raw, keep it real,
keep it right in the dark,
With a cracked-open voice and a beating soft heart.
From the shadows we built with the things that we knew,
To the quietest hum of a life called Tiguidou. (yeah)
Just us.
Just the
room. Just the truth.
Tara,
Captain Quinn,
and
the hyper-tuned
crew.