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The night drapes low, a velvet shade,
Whispers linger where dreams are made.
A saxophone sighs through the quiet street,
Soft footsteps fall, syncopated beat.
Crimson echo calling, calling me through the haze,
Crimson echo falling, through time’s shadowed maze.
Crimson echo calling, oh, it never fades.
A candle flickers, its light half-spent,
Casting shadows of where we went.
The past hums low in a minor key,
A melody that won't let me be.
Crimson echo calling, calling me through the haze,
Crimson echo falling, through time’s shadowed maze.
Crimson echo calling, oh, it never fades.
It’s the color of longing, the sound of regret,
A tune remembered, a face I can’t forget.
Through the strings it lingers, tender and low,
A song of love, a tale of woe.
Crimson echo calling, calling me through the haze,
Crimson echo falling, through time’s shadowed maze.
Crimson echo calling, oh, it never fades.
