Slept til Bowden Station (Shoegaze Version)

Описание: Hi! Welcome to my channel. All songs here are a collaboration between my subconscious, my conscious, and two types of AI. In short, they are dream songs. I've kept dream journals since 2002. I use ChatGPT to select the dreams and create genre prompts. I edit the lyrics and genres myself to get things right and I use Suno to make the songs. I've created about 20-30 songs per year of dream journaling. I'll slowly be adding them here. I hope you enjoy!

Lyrics:

[Intro: washed-out guitar haze, soft tremolo, distant train ambience]
A forward-facing seat,
a lullaby of tracks,
and the world tilts sideways
into sleep.

[Verse 1: airy vocals, slow reverb bloom]
I drift next to an old man,
his breathing steady,
mine unsteady—
too much to drink,
too little to anchor me.
The train hums
like it wants to carry me
into someone else’s life.

I wake to a voice overhead.
Bowden Station.
Never heard of it,
never meant to be here.

[Pre-Chorus: shimmering guitars, brushed snare]
I try to slip past him,
but the aisle is too narrow,
and kindness is too slow.
I topple over his knees,
half apology,
half gravity.

[Chorus: layered vocals, waves of soft distortion]
Bowden Station at midnight—
the signs don’t know my name.
I’m swaying in the doorway,
forgetting who to blame.
My backpack almost vanishes
in the closing of the door,
someone tosses it toward me,
and I stumble to the floor.
Bowden Station,
I shouldn’t be here—
but dreams don’t care
where trains let go.

[Verse 2: chorus-drenched guitars, slow-motion drums]
It’s between twelve and one,
and I call Mayumi
just to say
there’s no way home tonight.
The phone rings and rings—
every unanswered tone
echoes like a cold auditorium
in a school I’ve never known.
But somehow I’m walking into one,
a どうししゃ-connected campus
that shouldn’t exist
between yesterday and tomorrow.

[Pre-Chorus: soft cymbal rolls, rising guitar swell]
People are settling in
for an overnight stay,
their faces blurred
like half-developed film.
I keep trying to dial her—
each attempt dissolves
before it reaches her name.

[Chorus: vocal harmonies widening, guitars breathing in waves]
Bowden Station at midnight—
a platform made of static.
I’m holding my backpack tightly,
heart drifting automatic.
Missed trains, missed calls,
and the ringing doesn’t fade—
Just a quiet “I’m still here,”
in a place I never made.
Bowden Station,
I shouldn’t be here—
but some nights
choose their own direction.

[Bridge: ambient guitars, distant bell tones]
I end up in a quiet bedroom
where a woman speaks softly,
her voice like fog
around the edges of the room.
There’s a closeness,
a moment,
a warmth—
but something interrupts it
before it ever becomes clear.
She shows me
a small glowing screen,
filling the space
with symbols I don’t understand—
a reminder that some connections
arrive unfinished
and fade before you know
what they meant.

[Final Chorus: slow, swelling wall of sound, fading into night air]
Bowden Station at midnight—
I wandered far past home.
Between the tracks and empty halls,
I held the night alone.
Calls that never answer,
roads that never start—
yet somehow the city
kept a lantern
burning in my heart.
Bowden Station,
I’m leaving now—
but I won't forget
the quiet
that carried me through.

[Outro: soft reverse-reverb guitars, train doors hissing closed]
A station with no memory of me…
and a morning that finally wakes.