The voice is close and distant at once, singing sleep over a quiet pulse that’s already moving underneath.

That wordless ah keeps the melody suspended, more like breath than a new section.

Now the words start naming wind and warning, but the track stays measured instead of hurrying after them.

When the voice returns with waking, the calm gait is still there, so the smoke in the lyric feels steadier and more troubling.

This middle passage tightens the language into a trap, and the steady pulse keeps every short line moving forward.

The title phrase opens wider here, and it lands as a warning, not a promise.

The vocal turns outward now: no more silence, no more holding the tongue.

Wind becomes storm in the words, while the music keeps its composed forward motion.

That line balances patience with urgency: take time, but don’t let time become an excuse.

The fire image finally becomes personal, and the repeated inside of me phrase narrows the ending around the voice.