The Friction Manifesto

Steel humming deep, the rhythm starts to sway,
Like iron on the rails at the dying edge of day.
The station fades to ghosts, a blur of grey,
We’re cutting through the dark, drifting far away.

It’s not a journey, just a wake erased,
A living scar across the night, displaced.
Don’t smooth the edges, let the friction stay,
The beauty’s in the grind — don’t look away.

Leaving silver traces, bleeding out the light,
The rhythm is a pulse inside the velvet night.
No destination, just the static, just the hum,
Becoming all the things we haven’t yet become.

It’s not a journey, just a wake erased,
A living scar across the night, displaced.
Don’t smooth the edges, let the friction stay,
The beauty’s in the grind—don’t look away.

The friction stays…
The silver traces…
The track goes on…
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https://disk.yandex.ru/d/J1WUr06W5oLD-g

The instrumental version is available here:

https://disk.yandex.ru/d/4oL9EQIFbSNGcg