3 A.M.

One of my listeners asked me to create an English song with a small melancholic story ⭐️ — and this is what came out of it. 🖤 3 A.M. It’s 3 A.M. and someone is still awake. A cigarette they don’t even want. An empty street. One light still burning in a window. A walk down to the lake, hoping the cold night air will quiet the thoughts. But at night, thoughts become louder. A shooting star brings one impossible wish back to mind. A hedgehog rustling through the bushes brings a brief smile. An owl somewhere in the darkness. And the memory of someone who is impossible to forget — even though nothing ever really began. “3 A.M.” tells the story of a sleepless night, an impossible wish and the strange kind of heartbreak that can exist even when there was never a relationship to lose. 🖤🌙 #DarkWave #MelancholicMusic #SynthPop #GothicMusic #SadSong #AIMusic Lyrics & Story: It’s three o’clock at night. I’m still awake. My phone is lying next to me, the room is dark, and once again I’m thinking about you. I turn towards the wall, close my eyes, start counting backwards. By eighty-seven I’m back to you. So I get up. I put on a jacket and take a cigarette outside. I don’t even know why. I don’t smoke. The first drag makes me cough and for a second I think this was probably a really stupid idea. The street is empty. There’s still a light on in a house across the road. At least I’m not the only one awake. So I start walking. Down towards the lake. The air is cold and nothing moves. I try counting my steps instead of thinking. One, two, three, four. Twenty metres later I’m thinking about you again. I don’t even know what I expected. That the night would clear my head? That the wind would carry something away? So far it only messes up my hair. I stop by the lake. The water is almost black. Only the moon is there, moving with the small waves. I look up at the sky. And right then a shooting star falls. Of course I think of you. One wish. I know exactly how unrealistic it is. Maybe even stupid. I make it anyway. The shooting star doesn’t need to know that I’m old enough to know better. A few metres away something moves in the bushes. I freeze. Then I hear a quiet little grunt. A hedgehog walks through the leaves as if it has something extremely important to do in the middle of the night. And I actually laugh. Only for a second. But still. At least one of us seems to be having a good night. It disappears into the bushes. I keep walking. I sit down by the water. Somewhere in the distance I hear a bird. Maybe an owl. Nothing else. And that’s the problem. During the day I can distract myself. People talk. Phones ring. Cars pass by. But at night there’s nothing standing between me and my thoughts. So everything comes back. Every word. Every little hope. Every moment I probably gave too much meaning to. Sometimes I’m angry at myself. A little bit of closeness. A few kind words. A few moments. And my head turned it into a whole story with both of us inside it. Except you probably never even knew that story existed. Maybe I don’t miss you. Maybe I only miss the life I imagined for a while when I thought about you. I don’t know. When I get up again it’s just after four. The cigarette is long gone. Somewhere along the way I threw it in a bin. It wasn’t for me anyway. I walk back home. The hedgehog is gone. The shooting star is gone. Only my wish is still here. Typical. Back home I take off my jacket and lie down again. Outside, the sky is slowly getting brighter. I’m still thinking about you. But at least for one hour I saw something else besides my bedroom ceiling. Maybe I’ll sleep now. Maybe I won’t. And if another shooting star falls somewhere it already knows my wish.