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Alone New Yorker · 2026

Houses of light

Un texte retenu et cinématographique construit autour de la lumière, de l’architecture et de la distance émotionnelle entre des êtres pourtant proches.

Artiste
Alone New Yorker
Écrit par
Benjamin Decraene
Sortie
2026

Paroles

© Benjamin Decraene
I walk the hill above the station
Shoes still wet from yesterday
Houses breathing in the darkness
Little worlds along the way
Golden squares in painted concrete
Moving shadows on the wall
Every window holds a secret
Every light a quiet call

Somewhere someone's boiling water
Someone's laughing in their sleep
Somewhere someone holds a letter
That they're too afraid to keep

These are houses of light
Lanterns stitched into the night
I don't know their names
But I feel their lives
Through the glass and the blinds
These are houses of light
And I'm just passing by
With a borrowed sky
Carrying my mountains inside

On a balcony, a young boy
Traces airplanes with his hand
In a kitchen, tired shoulders
Wash the same plate once again
In an attic, someone's painting
Snowy peaks they've never seen
And a song leaks through a doorway
Soft and cracked and almost clean

Somewhere someone folds a suitcase
Somewhere tears are running slow
Somewhere someone lights a candle
For a name they'll never know

These are houses of light
Lanterns stitched into the night
I don't know their names
But I feel their lives
Through the glass and the blinds
These are houses of light
And I'm just passing by
With a borrowed sky
Carrying my mountains inside

If they looked out they'd just see me
Silhouette against the rain
But my heart is at their table
Sharing every small refrain
From the valleys where I started
To this hill above the tracks
Every window is a compass
Pointing home and pulling back

These are houses of light
Tiny prayers against the night
I don't know their names
But they warm the cold
On this far, forgotten road
These are houses of light
And I'm walking slow
With the town below
Carrying my mountains inside

Paroles originales. Tous droits réservés.