Verse 1
Echoes rise from midnight’s floor,
A shimmer born of bass and lore.
Each note a spell, each chord a flame,
Calling lost words back by name.

Chorus
Where funky house music lives—
Not just survives,
But pulses, breathes, and comes alive.
It moves through us, a sacred drive,
Where rhythm dreams and souls revive.

Verse 2
The beat begins—hypnotic, deep,
Waking bones we thought asleep.
A rhythm carved from cosmic skies,
That dances behind closed eyes.

Chorus
Where funky house music lives—
Not just survives,
But pulses, breathes, and comes alive.
It moves through us, a sacred drive,
Where rhythm dreams and souls revive.

Verse 3
Verses lost in dusty tomes
Now glide on synths and sampled moans.
Their meaning stretched, their meter bent,
Yet every line feels heaven-sent.

Verse 4
A bassline bends the rules of time,
Reviving stanzas, rhyme by rhyme.
The past returns in filtered tones,
A choir built from broken phones.
And in this trance, we find our grace—
Not bound by clocks, but bound by sonic space.

Chorus
Where funky house music lives—
Not just survives,
But pulses, breathes, and comes alive.
It moves through us, a sacred drive,
Where rhythm dreams and souls revive.

Verse 5
So let the music pull you near,
Where silence fades and dreams appear.
Each track a tale, each beat a sun—
A thousand stories, told as one.

Final Chorus
Where funky house music lives—
Not just survives,
But pulses, breathes, and comes alive.
It moves through us, a sacred drive,
Where rhythm dreams and souls revive.