Feel the pitch bend, letting it press (wersja 2)

Verse 1

Red dust drifting by the open gate

Sun drops low, turning amber and late

Bare heels tapping on the cooling ground

Waiting for the roll, heavy and round

You don't say a word, you just tilt your head

Answering the rumble where the light went red

Pre-Chorus

The roll starts coming, quiet and low

The weight in your ribs begins to grow

You step in closer, steady and slow

Where the drop is leading, both of us know

Chorus

Log drum love language, chest to your chest

Feel the pitch bend, letting it press

We don't need a voice when the floor begins

Log drum love language, under the skin

Verse 2

Streetlamp buzzing with an orange glow

Cool breeze moving where the heat stays slow

Cold glass sweating on a wooden crate

Your arm against mine, finding the weight

The shaker slides right and the kick cuts through

My breath on the two leans into you

Pre-Chorus

The roll starts coming, quiet and low

The weight in your ribs begins to grow

You step in closer, steady and slow

Where the drop is leading, both of us know

Chorus

Log drum love language, chest to your chest

Feel the pitch bend, letting it press

We don't need a voice when the floor begins

Log drum love language, under the skin

Bridge

Hips follow low when the bottom falls out

Nothing left here for the talking about

Just the warm night brick and the wooden sound

Two pair of feet rooted into the ground

Chorus

Log drum love language, chest to your chest

Feel the pitch bend, letting it press

We don't need a voice when the floor begins

Log drum love language, under the skin