Basement Blueprints

Under the streetlamp, steam rising slow

Walking past the lounge where the brass melodies blow Dust on the

needles, groove in the floor Old souls spinning stories behind the heavy

door Yeah, we trace the notes on the plaster wall No rush,

just the rhythm catching the fall (yeeeah)

We carve the path where the shadows bend Every dusty sample feels

like an old-time friend

Vibes in the air,

gold-era state of mind Leaving all the static and the rush behind

Keep it locked down,

let the brass slide Just a smoky room and the double-bass guide