All language subtitles for 0-Afro Pulse Frequency

We are washing in the tears of the sky

Letting all the heavy ancient

shadows die Flowing to

the river of the unseen soul

Letting the ancestral rhythms take

control

Touch me once before the storm is gone.

Before we walk into the silent dark.

Let it wash over.

Feel the rain.

Heavy clouds gather in the dark.

Water falling on the glowing spark.

Washing away the dust from my feet.

Blending with the heavy cry of heat.

I open up my hands to catch the fall.

Lifting into the unthinkable.

Every drop upon the broken stone.

Reminds me that we never walk alone.

The rain is pulling me under I can hear
the ancestral thunder

Speak to me out of the storm Keep this
wandering spirit

warm

Spirit, hear. Spirit, call.

Water

running

deep into the earth.

A quiet moment of our rebirth.

I close my eyes and let the river flow
where the silent ancient spirit goes.

The midnight jar washes in the stream,
waking from a heavy, heavy

dream. Nothing left to carry on my back,
only the rhythm on the

midnight track.

They say the sky weeps for what it lost.

But the earth drinks it to bleed.

Let the water cleanse the rhythm.

Let it heal.

Let it heal.

Breathe the water in.

We are walking in the deep of the sky.

Letting all the heavy paint and shadow.

Before the storm comes Before

we walk into the silence

Let it fall We are clean Move with the

ancestors The storm has come

But we are clean.

We are just fading embers in the dark

Holding on to the memory of

the past Walking the glowing

ashes of the fire Letting the

rhythm take the spirit high

once before the warmth is gone.

Before the silent shadows bring the
dawn.

Don't let it fade.

The heat is resting in the stone.

A quiet language of our own.

Smoke has vanished in the night, leaving
only glowing light.

Every footstep on the ground is heavier
without a sound.

I trace the warmth upon your face before
it leaves this empty space.

The fire's pulling me under.

I can hear the ancestral thunder. Speak
to me.

Out of the glow.

A rhythm that the ashes know.

Speak to me.

Out of the fire.

Glow. Sparkle.

Ember.

Burn.

Spirit.

Ash.

Spirit.

A flicker dances on the wall, waiting
for the heavy night to fall.

You are the heat against my skin where
the fire ends and dust begins.

I open my hands to feel the tree.

Nothing is left but the silent day.

Washing the coldness from my mind.

Leaving the glowing coal behind.

The fire doesn't die.

It just changes form.

It goes back into the earth.

We are the one that remains in the
rhythm.

Listen.

Letting the rhythm take the spirit
higher.

Touch me once before the warmth is gone.

Before the silent shadow.

Let it burn.

We are still here.

Move with the ancestors.

Where the shadows still dancing In

the dust of the ancestral land

Hearts drift low in the

rhythm Like spirits Walking

in sand

Touch me once in a moment

Before you vanish

in the cold

A sacred bond in the

silence A story we never

unfold

Footsteps painted in the dust.

You move like shadows on my wall.

Ancient voices that we trust.

I hear them every time you call.

Every night I trace your name in the
smoke and in the flames. Every heartbeat

a drum telling me where you are from.

In the space in between.

Where the unseen doors open wide.

In the silence you speak to me.

Pulling you gently inside.

Closer.

They breathe.

Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do
it.

They move.

They breathe.

Do it, do it, do it.

Time is just a circle drawn from the
dusk until the dawn.

You never needed words to lie.

Your silence told me every time.

Now I dance with what we were.

Earth remembers our feet.

We are real.

Only in the rhythm.

Listen.

Lift it up.

Don't let it fade.

We are home.

Still dancing.

We are lifting up the veil of the dawn

Dancing while the

heavy night is gone Following the

rhythm through the morning light

Leaving all the shadows in the

fading night

Where the sky and the ancestral spirits
meet.

Lift it up.

The sun is coming.

The dust is settling upon the floor.

The dark cannot hold us anymore.

Every footstep finds a golden trace.

Waking up the silence in this empty
space.

I look for you inside the morning haze.

Caught inside this heavy written maze.

The fire is gone but the warmth remains.

Blowing like a river through my veins.
The sun is pulling me higher.

Rising from the ancestral fire.

Speak to me out of the glare.

I can feel your spirit in the air.

Speak to me into the light.

Spirit.

Spirit.

Spirit.

Open eyes.

The heavy wind is finally going to rest.

A quiet rhythm beating in my chest.

I reach out and the air is warm.

We survive the midnight and the storm.

No more footprints hidden in the dark.

Only the glowing of the morning star.
Walking star.

The night gave us the rhythm.

But the morning gives us the truth.

We do not leave the ancestors in the
dark.

We carry them into the light.

Into the light.

Breathe.

We made it.

Still dancing.

The dawn remembers.

We are still dancing.

We are chasing echoes in the dark.

Building up a rhythm deep inside.

Voices from the shadow calling out.

Washing all the times and the time.

Touch me once before the memory blows.

Down the heavy river where the spirit
goes.

The ground

is cracked beneath my feet.

But still I feel the ancient heat.

A vibration rising through the floor,
opening the heavy wooden door.

The smoke is rising from the clay,
taking all the emptiness away.

Every heavy step across the room, chases
away the midnight glow.

The earth is pulling me under.

I can hear the ancestral thunder.

Speak to me out of the crowd.

I am lost inside the sound.

Speak to me out of the crowd.

Echo.

Dust.

Rhythm.

Trust.

Spirit.

Rise.

Open sky.

A single drop upon the stone reminds me
I am not alone.

The rhythm lives inside the veins, a
shelter from the pouring

rain.

We are just reflections of the past,
dancing in the morning.

Time buries the past in the dirt.

But the rhythm, the rhythm is a seed.

It always grows back.

Listen to it.

Let it grow.

We are chasing echoes in the dust.

Building up a rhythm we can trust.

Voices.

Let it grow.

We are still here.

Move with the ancestors.

We are chasing echoes in the dust.

Building up a rhythm we can trust.

Voices from the shadow calling out.

Washing all the silence and doubt.

me once before the memory blows Down the

heavy river where the spirit goes Don't
let it fade

The ground

had cracked beneath my feet But still I
feel the ancient heat A

vibration rising through

Open in the heavy wooden door.

The smoke is rising from the place.

Taking all the emptiness away.

Every heavy step across the room.

Chases away the midnight gloom.

The earth is pulling me under.

I can hear the entrance roll under.

Speak to me out of it.

Rhythm and trust.

Spirit rise in the sky.

A single drop upon the stone reminds me
I am not alone.

The rhythm lives inside the vein.

A shelter from the pouring rain.

We are just reflections of the past.

Dancing in a moment that will last.

I open up my heavy hand to catch the
spirit in the

sand.

They say time buries the past in the
dirt.

But the rhythm, the rhythm is a seed.

It always grows back.

Listen to it bloom.

Listen.

Let it grow.

We are chasing echoes in the dust.

Building up a rhythm we can trust.

from the shadow.

We are chasing echoes in the dark.

Building up a rhythm we can try.

Voices from the shadow calling out.

Washing all the time and tender doubt.

Touch me once before the memory blows.

Down the heavy river where the spirit
goes.

The ground

is cracked beneath my feet.

But still I feel the ancient heat.

A vibration rising through the floor.

Opening the heavy wooden door.

The smoke is rising from the tape.

Taking all the emptiness away.

Every heavy step across the room.

Chases away the midnight glow.

The earth is pulling me under.

I can hear the ancestral thunder Speak
to me out of the ground I am lost

inside the sound Speak to me

A single drop upon the stone reminds me
I am not alone.

The rhythm lives inside the vein, a
shelter from the pouring

rain.

We are just reflections of the past,
dancing in the moment that will

last.

I open up my heavy hands to catch the
spirit.

It always grows back.

Listen to it bloom.

Listen. Let it grow.

Let it grow.

We are still here.

Move with the ancestors.

Dettles.

We are chasing echoes in the dust.

Building up a rhythm we can trust.

Voices from the shadow calling out.

Washing all the silence and doubt.

Once before the memory blows Down the
heavy

river Where the spirit goes Keep chasing
Don't let it fade

The ground

is cracked beneath my But still I feel
the ancient heat

A vibration rising through the floor,
opening the heavy wooden door.

The smoke is rising from the clay,
taking all the emptiness away.

Every heavy step across the room chases
away the midnight

gloom.

The earth is pulling me under.

I can hear the emphasis roll thunder.

Rhythm crosses.

Spirit rise.

Open skies.

A single drop upon the stone reminds me
I am not alone.

The rhythm lives inside the vein.

A shelter from the pouring rain.

Reflections of the past Dancing in a
moment that will last

I open up my heavy hands To catch the
spirits

in the fans They say

time buries the past in the dirt.

But the rhythm, the rhythm is a seed.

It always grows back.

Listen to it bloom.

Listen.

Let it grow.

We are chasing echoes in the dust.

We are chasing echoes in the dust.

Voices from the shadows calling out
Watching all the

silence and the doubt Touch me once
before The

memory blows Down the heavy

river Where the spirit goes Let it grow

But the fa -

Chasing echoes in the dust.

Building up a rhythm within the dust.

Voices from the shadow calling out.

Washing all the silence and doubt.

Touch me once before the memory blows.

Down the heavy river where the spirit
goes.

We can't just don't let it fade.

The ground is cracked beneath my feet.

But still I feel the ancient heat.

A vibration rising through the door,
opening the heavy wooden door.

The smoke is rising from the place,
taking all the emptiness away.

Every heavy step across the room, chases
away the midnight

gloom.

The earth is pulling me under.

Speak to me out of the crowd.

A single drop upon the stone

Reminds me I am not alone The rhythm
lives

inside the vein A shelter from the
pouring rain

Reflections of the past Dancing in a
moment that will last

I open up my heavy hands To catch the
spirits

in the sand They say

time buries the past in the dirt But the
rhythm,

the rhythm is a seed

It always grows back.

Listen to it bloom.

Listen.

Let it grow.

We are chasing echoes in the dust.

We are chasing echoes in the dust.

Building up a rhythm we can trust.

Building up a rhythm we can trust.

from the shadow calling out walking all
the silence and the

doubt touch me once before the

memory blows down the heavy

river where the spirit goes let it grow

We are just fading embers in the dark

Holding on to the

memory of the spark

Walking the glowing ashes

of the fire Letting

the rhythm take the spirit high

Touch me once before the warmth is gone

Before the silent

shadows bring the dawn Keep it glowing

The

heat

is resting in the stone

A quiet language of our own.

The smoke has vanished in the night.

Leaving only glowing light.

Every footstep on the ground.

Heavier without a sound.

I trade the warmth upon your face.

Before it leaves this empty space.

Thank you.

A flipper dance is on the wall, waiting
for the heavy nightfall.

You are the heat against my skin, where
the fire ends and dust begins.

I open my hands to feel the trace.

Nothing is left but the silent face.

Washing the coldness from my mind.

Leaving the glowing...

into the earth we are the

ones that remains in the rhythm listen

we are just playing

embers in the dark

We are still here.

Move with the ancestors.

Still glowing.

The ashes, remember.

We are just fading embers in the dark

Holding on to the memory

of the star Walking the

glowing ashes of the fire Letting the

rhythm take the spirit high

before the warmth is gone.

Before the silent shadows bring the
dawn.

Don't let it fade.

The heat is resting in the stone.

A quiet language of our own.

Smoke has vanished in the night, leaving
only glowing light.

Every footstep on the ground is heavier
without a sound.

I trace the warmth upon your face before
it leaves this empty space.

The fire's pulling me under.

I can hear the ancestral thunder.

Speak to me.

that the ashes know.

A flicker dance is on the wall, waiting
for the heavy night to fall.

You are the heat against my skin where
the fire ends and death begins.

I open my hands to feel the trade.

Nothing is left but the silent days,
washing the coldness from my mind.

Leaving the glowing coal behind.

The fire doesn't die.

It just changes form.

It goes back into the earth.

We are the one that remains in the
rhythm.

Listen.

Holding on to the memory of the spark.

Letting the rhythm take the spirit
higher.

Touch me once before the warmth is gone.

Before the silent shadow.

Let it burn.

We are still here.

Move with the ancestors.

The ashes.

Remember.

Lost in the tides of silence.

Lost in the tides of silence.

Washing the dust from my weary soul.

Walking the deep ancestral waters.

Letting the rhythm take control.

Touch me once before the turning turns.

While the fire and shadow burn.

Sacred bond that the ocean eats.

While the unfeeling spirit bleeds.

Let it wash over.

Feel the tide.

Heavy drops on the ocean floor.

Opening up the unseen door.

Shadows pulling the water deep.

Waking the memories from their sleep.

I hear your voice in the undertow.

Telling my heavy heart to go.

Every heartbeat against the wave.

Echoes the ancestors.

Strong and brave.

The water is pulling me under.

I can hear the ancestral thunder.

Speak to me out of the deep.

Hey!

Swallowing colors into the night.

You are the current pulling me down.

Wearing a silent invisible crown.

I trace the water upon my hand.

Looking for footprints left in the sand.

But nothing remains when the water
clears.

Washing away the dust in the air.

I stood at the edge of the water and
waited for an answer.

But the ocean only gave back the rhythm.

We do not fight the tide.

We become it.

Become it.

Listen to the waves.

in the tides of silence washing the dust
from

my weary soul walking the deep ancestral

waters letting the rhythm take control

not just me wanting for the current turn

while the fire and the shadow burns a
big grid bomb that the

ocean keeps while the

We are leaving footprints in the dark.

Walking where the ancient shadows are.

Following the rhythm of the unseen hand.

Beating like a drum across the silent
land.

Touch me once before the memory fades.

underneath the cover of the midnight
shade.

Keep walking.

Don't lose the rhythm.

Roots are growing deep beneath the
floor, knocking softly on the heavy

Every step is guided by the sound.

Moving through the spirits in the
ground. I cannot keep at the head of me.

But the riddles that the heavy bodies
speak.

Dust is rising up to meet the sky.

As the unseen ancestors pass us by.

The day is pulling me under.

I can hear the ancestors thunder.

Speak to me out of the night.

We'll be right

back.

They say you cannot see the path at
night.

But the feet remember the way.

We do not need the light.

We only need the rhythm.

The rhythm.

The rhythm.

Throughout the path.

Following the rhythm of the unseen hand.

Touch me once before the memory

bed.

Underneath the cover of the midnight
shade.

Leave your mark.

We are still here.

Move with the ancestors.

The Dark Remember.

We are leaving footprints in the dark

We're

chasing echoes of the

unseen We're

chasing echoes of the unseen

Moving through the smoke and the silver
light.

A heavy spirit on a quiet screen.

Searching for your shadow in the middle
of the night.

Touch the water, let the ripples run.

Till the rhythm and soul are one. Let it
run.

Run.

We are 30.

You left a footprint in the air.

A heavy file in black and white.

No direction, no divide, just the pull
of the ocean tide.

Every breath is a quiet plea, calling
out to the memory.

Through the fog and through the flame,
the rhythm always speaks your name.

Pull me deeper than the tide, where the
broken shadows hide.

I can feel you in the face, every time
the tempo drops to face.

Deeper now, I feel you.

Bye. Bye.

rising in the dark just the glowing of a
spark where the heavy words are cold

but the baseline never gets old I reach
out to hold your hand

but you are water in the sand still I
follow

where you go in the frequencies galore

I try to hold the wind

But it only dances when it's free.

You are the echo.

And I am the room.

Yeah.

Just an echo.

Touch the water, let the ripples run.

Until the rhythm and the soul are one.

Sing it with me.

Until we are one.

Take me there.

We are washing in the tears of the sky.

Letting all the heavy ancient shadows
die.

Flowing through the river of the unseen
soul.

Letting the ancestral rhythm take
control.

Touch me once before the storm is gone.

Before we walk into this island of time.

Let it wash over.

Feel the rain.

Heavy clouds gather in the dark.

Water falling on the glowing spark
Washing away the dust from my feet

Blending with the heavy tribal heat I
open up my

hand to catch the fall Listening to the
unthinkable call

Every drop upon the broken stone Reminds
me that we never

walk alone

The rain is pulling me under.

I can hear the ancestral thunder.

Feed to me out of the storm.

Keep this wandering spirit warm.

Spirit hear and spirit call.

Water running deep into the

earth.

A quiet moment of our rebirth.

I close my eyes and let the river flow
where the silent, ancient spirit goes.

The midnight star washes in the stream,
waking from a heavy, heavy

dream. Nothing left to carry on my back,
only the rhythm on the

midnight track.

They say the sky weeps for what it lost.

But the earth drinks it to grow.

Let the water cleanse the rhythm.

Let it heal.

Breathe the water in.

Before the stormy comes.

Before we walk into the silence.

Let it fall.

We are clean.

Move with the ancestors.

The storm.

We are clean.