Staccato Glide

Midnight on my tongue,

step clean through the door

(yeah) Let the room lean in,

leave space on the floor

I move light, no script,

just timing Two steps ahead while the keys keep climbing Talk to

the beat like an old friend calling

Catch my name when the bassline's crawling (uh-huh) Fresh crease,

late train, glass in my hand Every little turn got a new

game plan

Don't rush the feeling

Let it rise, let it ride

Hands up to the ceiling

We open the night (ooh)

We go wide when the night gets restless

High on the move,

weightless, reckless

All this room and we still get closer

Turn it up till the feeling takes over (ooh-yeah)

Back in the cut,

I keep corners rounded New little rhythm,

now the whole room found it No heavy speech,

just a quick translation Feet say more than a conversation (yeah) I

pass the line and you flip it right back

Clean like chrome on a fast-track hat

Keep one hand on the rhythm

One eye on the door

If the floor starts tilting

We just ask for more (ah-ah,

yeah)

We go wide when the night gets restless

High on the move,

weightless, reckless

All this room and we still get closer Turn it up till

the feeling takes over (ooh-yeah) One more spark and we glide to

the morning