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Your Name in a Phone Booth • An old glass booth on a rainy corner, still holding the shadows of every voice it ever carried. This is a track for the moments when you remember a number you’ll never dial again. It’s for the quiet realization that some endings don’t need to be loud to be permanent. "Some love learns to stay unused, and calls that fine." This is a song about the grace of letting go without forgetting. No signal, no reply - just a name scratched into the glass and the hum of the city moving on. 🌑 JOIN THE NIGHT Not every silence is empty. Listen to our stories, subscribe to MIDNIGHT NOIR CHILL, and find the beauty in the things we leave behind. 🌑 THE LYRICS There’s a phone booth on the corner, Still pretending it belongs. Glass clouded by old seasons, Numbers scratched where names were once. I stop there out of habit, Not for anything new, Just to stand inside a moment That still remembers you. I know your number by its rhythm, Not the digits, just the space. The way it waits between the ringing, The breath before a name. A couple walks by laughing, Coins sleep cold in my hand. Some things don’t ask for answers, They just quietly stand. I don’t reach, I don’t hesitate, I already know the sound. Some voices live in memory Where calls don’t go through now. Your name in a phone booth, Faded ink, still clear. Like something I don’t touch anymore But somehow keep near. I don’t need to hear you answer, I don’t need a sign. Some love learns to stay unused And calls that fine. I’ve learned new ways of waiting, Different streets at night. Coffee tastes a little quieter When you drink it by yourself. The booth hums like it remembers Every voice it ever held. Je me souviens sans douleur, Just a story I don’t tell. I don’t miss what we were, I don’t rewind the tape. I just notice what’s missing When the city slows its pace. Your name in a phone booth, No signal, no reply. Just a shadow I recognize When the night walks by. I don’t stay here very long, I don’t pretend it’s home. I just let the moment breathe Then move on. Not every silence is empty, Not every ending is loud. Some things fade politely Into the crowd. Your name in a phone booth, Under yellow light. Not a question, not a wound, Just part of the night. I leave the coins where they are, Step back into the street. Some numbers aren’t meant to be called— They’re meant to sleep. 🎶 Music and Lyrics by MIDNIGHT NOIR CHILL / Ink Stays Dark - Because some stories never leave the shadows. 🌑 THE NOIR UNIVERSE 🎶The Music: Stream the official Midnight Noir Chill collection and stay in the shadows: → Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/7h56i... → Apple Music: / midnight-noir-chill → TikTok: / midnightnoirchill → Instagram: / midnightnoirchill → Facebook: / midnightnoirchill 🌑 RELATED PROJECTS 🎙️ The Podcast: Dive into the grit. Listen to the "Ink Stays Dark" podcast by Adrian Klein: → https://open.spotify.com/show/6NJe0eH... 🌑 Ink Stays Dark Collective: Website: https://www.inkstaysdark.com TikTok: / inkstaysdark #PhoneBooth #MIDNIGHTNOIRCHILL #NoirStory #AtmosphericJazz #UrbanSolitude #InkStaysDark