Nun chucks version
Song generated By ✨Song.do
v1
@ G - POTS TOP SHOTS
2026-04-16 02:15:51
Lyrics
By the caravan lamp, late in the night,
I found my little girl dancing in the light (eh)
Paper towel tubes in her hands tied tight,
Twine round the middle, both ends sitting right.
I said, “baby girl, what’s that tonight?”
She said, “my nun chucks” (what?) with pure delight.
My chest went cold ‘cause that weren’t right,
She was only two, how’d she know that sight?
I asked who taught her the swing so slight,
She said, “Adam comes by every night.”
“He shows me the grip and the turn just right,
Keeps my elbows close when I swing and strike.”
“Wow, no way, he says I might
Need these one day if I have to fight.”
The room felt heavy, the fire burned bright,
My hands went numb and my jaw locked tight.
I asked what Adam looked like in fright,
She said, “he’s tall and his hair real light.”
“Blue eyes, mummy, shining bright,
And he smiles at me every night.”
Then she laughed like, “eh, you know him, right?”
“Why you looking at me like that tonight?”
Then she said, (ohh no) plain outright,
“He died of a headache” — words cut like a knife.
Four months before her first breath’s light,
My closest friend lost his final fight.
Twenty-seven years and a soul of might,
Gone from the world in a single night.
Aneurysm came with a silent bite,
Took his tomorrow clean from sight.
Blond hair, blue eyes, the picture was right,
Martial arts hands fast as lightning’s strike.
No one had told her, not one in life,
No photo was out, no spoken line in sight.
Yet there she stood in the kitchen light,
Swinging those tubes in his stance just right.
She said, “what? wow, why do you cry?”
Like death and birth had crossed that night.
I had to leave, couldn’t stay in sight,
Tears hit hard and my chest pulled tight.
The hallway spun like wagon wheels at night,
Moon on the window all pale and white.
My mind ran back to that awful night,
When they called and said he’d lost his life.
I heard his voice in the silence, slight,
Like embers talking in the dead of night.
Maybe he came from the other side,
To teach my daughter how to survive.
Maybe my fear made the spirit take flight,
Maybe his lesson was done that night.
Maybe he came down one last time,
To leave old strength in young hands bright.
Since then she’s never said his name outright,
No more lessons in the dead of night.
But when she twirls, (wow) I hear him still, right?
In every spin, his love survives the night.
I found my little girl dancing in the light (eh)
Paper towel tubes in her hands tied tight,
Twine round the middle, both ends sitting right.
I said, “baby girl, what’s that tonight?”
She said, “my nun chucks” (what?) with pure delight.
My chest went cold ‘cause that weren’t right,
She was only two, how’d she know that sight?
I asked who taught her the swing so slight,
She said, “Adam comes by every night.”
“He shows me the grip and the turn just right,
Keeps my elbows close when I swing and strike.”
“Wow, no way, he says I might
Need these one day if I have to fight.”
The room felt heavy, the fire burned bright,
My hands went numb and my jaw locked tight.
I asked what Adam looked like in fright,
She said, “he’s tall and his hair real light.”
“Blue eyes, mummy, shining bright,
And he smiles at me every night.”
Then she laughed like, “eh, you know him, right?”
“Why you looking at me like that tonight?”
Then she said, (ohh no) plain outright,
“He died of a headache” — words cut like a knife.
Four months before her first breath’s light,
My closest friend lost his final fight.
Twenty-seven years and a soul of might,
Gone from the world in a single night.
Aneurysm came with a silent bite,
Took his tomorrow clean from sight.
Blond hair, blue eyes, the picture was right,
Martial arts hands fast as lightning’s strike.
No one had told her, not one in life,
No photo was out, no spoken line in sight.
Yet there she stood in the kitchen light,
Swinging those tubes in his stance just right.
She said, “what? wow, why do you cry?”
Like death and birth had crossed that night.
I had to leave, couldn’t stay in sight,
Tears hit hard and my chest pulled tight.
The hallway spun like wagon wheels at night,
Moon on the window all pale and white.
My mind ran back to that awful night,
When they called and said he’d lost his life.
I heard his voice in the silence, slight,
Like embers talking in the dead of night.
Maybe he came from the other side,
To teach my daughter how to survive.
Maybe my fear made the spirit take flight,
Maybe his lesson was done that night.
Maybe he came down one last time,
To leave old strength in young hands bright.
Since then she’s never said his name outright,
No more lessons in the dead of night.
But when she twirls, (wow) I hear him still, right?
In every spin, his love survives the night.
Style of Music
dark, scary, Trap, Dubstep, London, hip-hop , Gloomy, Dark, female Vocals, Cowbell, Choir, Piano, Cowbell, Moderate (76-108 BPM), Child Vocals, Choir, Rap Vocals, Chanting, Choir, Operatic Vocals