Illusionist’s Sleight - 01b - (Club- UK Garage)

Описание: Illusionist’s Sleight - 01b

(Club- UK Garage)

Language: English

Lyrics
[Intro]
Pick a card. Watch the hand. Don’t trust the light.

[Verse 1]
Left hand flashes while the right hand hides,
mirror-room smile where the skyline slides.
Coin in the air turns smoke on cue,
shuffle a doubt till it looks like truth.
Footsteps fake you an extra beat,
curtain says “empty,” I’m under your feet.
Angles kiss where the edges meet—
now blink once; the trick’s complete.

[Pre-Chorus]
Count to four but the floor says three,
frames go wide, then fold to me.
What you call “real” is a practiced lean—
I color the dark and erase the seam.

[Chorus]
If it moves me, does it need to be real?
Glass can sing and the cut won’t heal.
Every secret loves a willing crowd—
say it soft and I’ll make it loud.
Wires or wonder, skin or steel,
my touch decides what you feel.
If it moves me, does it need to be real?
Close your eyes—now open: deal.

[Post-Chorus]
Now you see me; now you’re sure.

[Verse 2]
I hum a line underneath your noise,
dress it in hush like a borrowed voice.
Masks on masks till the truth looks wrong,
pull one pin and you hear my song.
Neon blurs into single file,
silence cuts like a guilty smile.
I freeze the room for half a breath—
you swear the street just changed its depth.

[Pre-Chorus 2]
Stack the cards; let the colors run,
left looks heavy so the right looks none.
Edge-of-vision is a faithful friend—
follow the echo to a different end.

[Drop / Chorus]
If it moves me, does it need to be real?
Glass can sing and the cut won’t heal.
Every secret loves a willing crowd—
say it soft and I’ll make it loud.
Wires or wonder, skin or steel,
my touch decides what you feel.
If it moves me, does it need to be real?
Close your eyes—now open: deal.

[Bridge]
Trapdoor heart with a velvet spring,
switch the hands and I switch the king.
Call it story, call it sin—
what you let in is what I’ve been.

[Final Chorus]
If it moves me, does it need to be real?
Glass can sing and the cut won’t heal.
Every secret loves a willing crowd—
say it soft and I’ll make it loud.
Wires or wonder, skin or steel,
my touch decides what you feel.
If it moves me, does it need to be real?
Look again—your world’s the reveal.

[Outro]
House lights up. Empty hands. Keep the wonder.


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