Sandi Jave — Meduza (Deep house)

Blue light leaking across the floor.
She came late, the side door cracked.
No introduction, just that look,
Like she knew what the room was about.
Silver dress, dark tattoo, small gold chain,
Black hot boots.
Everybody turned for a second,
Then went back to acting cool.
She don't dance for anybody,
Moves alone when the rhythm bends.
Says she hates men making plans.
Says tonight depends how it ends.
One drink left, ice gone thin.
My friend says don't get pulled in.
Too late, she already smiled.
That's how trouble always begins.
Look away, still can't call anyway.
Don't get close, that's the part nobody knows.
One slow turn, watch the whole room crash and burn.
Say my name, then disappear and do the same.
Outside, cold against my face.
She lights up, asks me for a ride.
I say nothing, unlock the door.
She laughs and gets inside, radio low, streets half-empty.
She puts both feet on the seat.
Says the city feels less dangerous when nobody knows where you sleep.
No sad song, no fake tears,
No questions about previous years.
Talk straight, then goes quiet,
Like silence is something she owns.
Traffic stops, she checks the time, tells me here,
This corner's fine.
Guess out fast without goodbye,
Leaves her jacket on the side.
Same place, different crowd.
I almost forgot her face,
Then the bartender puts down the jacket.
Says your friend left this by mistake in side pocket.
Nothing much, a drain receipt and hotel key.
No number, no little note, just proof she was next to me.
I don't chase her, that's not my style.
Some things work because they're brief, most later.
Same song comes on and I remember that look she gave.
Maybe real, maybe made up, maybe that's the better part.
Certain people enter quietly,
Then keep moving through your thoughts.
One look, no warning, gone again.
Blue light leaking across the floor.
She came late, the side door cracked.
No introduction, just that look,
Like she knew what the room was about.
Silver dress, dark tattoo, small gold chain,
Black hot boots.
Everybody turned for a second,
Then went back to acting cool.
She don't dance for anybody,
Moves alone when the rhythm bends.
Says she hates men making plans.
Says tonight depends how it ends.
One drink left, ice gone thin.
My friend says don't get pulled in.
Too late, she already smiled.
That's how trouble always begins.
Look away, still can't call anyway.
Don't get close, that's the part nobody knows.
One slow turn, watch the whole room crash and burn.
Say my name, then disappear and do the same.
Outside, cold against my face.
She lights up, asks me for a ride.
I say nothing, unlock the door.
She laughs and gets inside, radio low, streets half-empty.
She puts both feet on the seat.
Says the city feels less dangerous when nobody knows where you sleep.
No sad song, no fake tears,
No questions about previous years.
Talk straight, then goes quiet,
Like silence is something she owns.
Traffic stops, she checks the time, tells me here,
This corner's fine.
Guess out fast without goodbye,
Leaves her jacket on the side.
Same place, different crowd.
I almost forgot her face,
Then the bartender puts down the jacket.
Says your friend left this by mistake in side pocket.
Nothing much, a drain receipt and hotel key.
No number, no little note, just proof she was next to me.
I don't chase her, that's not my style.
Some things work because they're brief, most later.
Same song comes on and I remember that look she gave.
Maybe real, maybe made up, maybe that's the better part.
Certain people enter quietly,
Then keep moving through your thoughts.
One look, no warning, gone again.
One look, gone again.