Outpost 17 after midnight

[Verse 1]
Neon stutters softly down a rust-lined corridor,
Casting fractured colors on a long-abandoned floor.
A twang of handmade strings drifts lonely through the air,
Curling with the desert wind like a half-remembered prayer.

[Pre-Chorus]
Low beats hum beneath the scene,
A pulse like something caught between
A fading dream, a cut routine—
A quiet ghost in the machine.

[Chorus]
Outpost 17 after midnight,
Where the echoes move just out of sight.
Every note bends into the dying light,
Falling through the hush of a weightless night.

[Verse 2]
Static from an old console breathes against the wall,
Whispering its secrets through a failing signal call.
Footsteps of the past tap faintly under steel,
Soft as unresolved regret that time refused to heal.

[Pre-Chorus]
Air grows thin along the hall,
Carrying fragments of a call.
Shadows breathe, expand, and crawl—
A rhythm deep, impossibly small.

[Chorus]
Outpost 17 after midnight,
Where the dark leans in with a gentle bite.
Melodies flicker like a dying satellite,
Falling slow through the frost-blue twilight.

[Bridge]
If loneliness has texture, it’s the hum behind the drum,
A lo-fi heartbeat echoing from where the beats come from.
Soft neon sighs across the dust that gathers still,
Tracing shapes of every moment I never learned to feel.

[Final Chorus]
Outpost 17 after midnight,
Where each sound fades into the long quiet.
The final chord dissolves into the ambient night—
And the outpost sleeps… out of sight.

late-night lo-fi groove with twangy handmade guitar, subtle neon flicker, lonely room reverb, soft tapping rhythm, male