In the vaulted silence of the forgotten hallways, we hear the echoes of melodies that never reached the light of day. Songs about the mundane: the streetcar's gentle nudge through morning mist, the rhythmic tapping of rain on tin roofs, the soft shuffle of workers in dim-lit alleys. These are not hymns of grandeur, but symphonies composed beneath the skin of everyday lives. Explore Further
A Trace of Voice