The colors melt into the air,
casting gentle light across the streets only dreams can find.
A crooked castle rises at the center,
tilting softly like it’s listening to the wind.

The sky above is warm and open,
a soft blue drifting through the quiet town.
Sunlight settles on the old brick walls,
wrapping everything in a calm, sleepy glow.

And as the faceless crowd drifts by,
something warm begins to rise in me.
The sunlight feels a little brighter now,
like the town is waiting for my next step.

In this warm blue air, I feel it—
a quiet pull beneath the drifting time.
Even if no one turns my way,
the moment starts to open like a door.
And in this gentle, drifting town,
something real is calling out my name.

Air, I feel it—
I feel the world unfold around me.
Even if the faces fade to light,
as time bends softly out of frame.
In this moment, I can finally breathe—
like the dream remembers who I am.
something real is calling out my name.