كلمات
[Intro – szept neonowy]
Midnight…
Voltage rising…
Don’t pretend you’re innocent now.
---
[Verse 1]
You hit my screen like a forbidden spark,
A midnight stranger glowing in the dark.
Your bio says: “pure soul, clean mind,”
but your messages?
Baby, they read like you left your halo behind.
You type slow, like you’re tracing my skin,
Letters dripping heat, pulling me in.
You say: “I’m shy… usually.”
Usually.
But tonight, your tone is tax-evading the truth beautifully.
---
[Pre-Chorus 1]
Your words slide smooth, too smooth to be tame,
Every line a hint you won’t fully name.
You play polite, but I feel the heat—
a rhythm hiding under every heartbeat.
---
[Chorus – neon funk sensualny]
Shock me with your midnight tone,
Talking like you’ve got secrets carved in chrome.
Touch me through the static air,
Your voice so close like you’re already there.
Baby, you’re a voltage dream,
A shadow dancing on my silver screen.
You say “I behave”—
but your night mode ain’t serene.
---
[Verse 2]
You write: “Don’t judge, but I’ve got… ideas.”
Ideas, huh?
That word alone melts atmospheres.
You whisper: “I’m not bold, I’m suggestive,”
and suddenly the air gets dangerously festive.
You ask: “What’s your limit?”
I ask: “Why?”
You say: “Just planning the… vibe tonight.”
Vibe.
That magical word that says everything without saying anything.
---
[Pre-Chorus 2]
Oh, you talk like silver smoke,
Soft, slow-burning, ready to provoke.
You promise “class,” but I feel the fire—
hidden in the pauses between your desire.
---
[Chorus – mocniejszy, gorący]
Shock me with your midnight tone,
Whisper like your voice is breaking bone.
Pull me with your neon tease,
Your every line meant to make me freeze.
Baby, you’re a voltage dream,
A pulse, a spark, a secret extreme.
You say “I’m proper”—
but you type like a backstage scene.
---
[Bridge – pikantne dialogi, maksimum aluzji]
On: “You up?”
Ja: “Define ‘up’.”
On: “Awake… and thinking dangerous thoughts.”
Ja: “How dangerous?”
On: “Like… needing to be close. Very close.”
Ja: “Close is vague.”
On: “Close enough to hear your breath change.”
Ja: “You’re pushing the limit.”
On: “Tell me to stop.”
Ja: “I didn’t say that.”
On: “Then I won’t.”
Ja: “…You’re trouble.”
On: “Only the delicious kind.”
Ja: “Prove it.”
On: “Careful—this is where imagination misbehaves.”
To nie są zwykłe DMy.
To jest telepatia z filtrem 18+.
---
[Verse 3]
You say: “I’m respectful, I promise,”
while sending a photo cropped with… purpose.
You write: “This is just aesthetics.”
Sure.
Aesthetics with suspiciously intentional ethics.
You offer “a tour of your room,”
as if we oboje nie wiemy, co w tym zakamuflowanym słowie brzmi jak boom.
You add: “I have… ambiance.”
Ambiance.
Znów ten kod.
W 80s to nazywało się seduction mode.
---
[Pre-Chorus 3]
I see your halo slipping low,
glowing like a neon afterglow.
You say “I’m pure”—
but baby, your purity has a detour.
---
[Final Chorus – najwyższe napięcie dozwolone]
Shock me with your midnight flame,
You talk so soft but you spark like a game.
Hit me with that velvet tone,
A whisper sharp as a polished chrome.
Baby, you’re a voltage sin,
A neon promise pulling me in.
You say “I’m sweet”—
but the dark knows where you’ve been.
---
[Outro – szept z napięciem]
Midnight…
Voltage…
Do not pretend you’re innocent