[Intro – Male, spoken, distant distorted bass]
Flat upstairs has been empty since May.
Still hear something moving.
[Verse 1 – Male, gritty British spoken rap, tight flow]
Half past two and the lift's still dead,
Three flights up with a splitting head.
Final notice in a red print font,
Stuck it on the fridge with the other ones.
Some prick's making noise through the bedroom wall,
Except nobody lives there anymore.
I know what pipes do, I know what bass does,
This thing stops dead when the whole block shuts up.
Kettle won't boil, and the heating's fucked,
Got a pound in my pocket and a week of bad luck.
Hear three little knocks, then a gap, then two.
I knock back once. What else do you do?
[Pre-Chorus – Female, intimate and restrained]
I've been sitting on the other side,
With the television turned down low.
Never had a way to say it,
Never thought that you'd know.
[Chorus – Female, soaring melodic rock vocal]
There's a pulse in the plaster,
Not quite keeping time.
A little knock, a little gap,
Then another one behind.
I can't tell you what it means,
Wouldn't know where to start.
But it came through the wall,
And it caught me off guard.
There's a pulse...
There's a pulse...
[Verse 2 – Female, conversational lower register, building intensity]
Wasn't dying, wasn't dramatic,
Just a Wednesday with the blinds drawn tight.
Spent an hour looking for my keys,
With the bloody things in plain sight.
Half a cup of coffee gone cold,
One shoe on, one shoe in the hall.
Everybody's got some good advice
Until there's nobody left to call.
So I sat with my back to the skirting,
Counted cracks in the cheap white paint.
Tapped three times just to hear something,
Didn't expect anything back.
[Instrumental – Distorted guitar and aggressive breakbeat]
[Verse 3 – Male, faster technical rap, building aggression]
Funny how a sound gets under your skin,
First you hear it, then you're listening in.
Started keeping count without meaning to,
Missed a couple beats and I worried too.
Got the radio on, but the signal's shot,
All static and adverts for shit I don't want.
I should be asleep, got a shift at eight,
But I keep an ear pressed to the peeling paint.
And it's stupid, right? Two flats, one wall,
Two complete strangers saying nothing at all.
No names, no face, not a single word,
Best conversation I've had since the third.
[Chorus – Female lead, male lower harmony]
There's a pulse in the plaster,
Not quite keeping time.
A little knock, a little gap,
Then another one behind.
I can't tell you what it means,
Wouldn't know where to start.
But it came through the wall,
And it caught me off guard.
[Bridge – Male, near-whisper over pulsing sub bass]
Next night, nothing.
Next night, same.
Started recognising the shape of the rain.
Three short knocks.
A pause.
Then two.
Funny what you learn
About someone you never knew.
[Breakdown – Female, raw vocal building into a scream]
I wasn't asking to be rescued.
I wasn't waiting for a sign.
I just needed something outside my head
To answer back for once in my life.
[Heavy instrumental breakdown – Down-tuned guitars, halftime drums]
[Final Chorus – Female lead, male gritty backing vocals, both layered]
There's a pulse in the plaster,
There's a pulse in the plaster,
Not quite keeping time.
A little knock, a little gap,
Then another one behind.
And I still don't know your name,
Maybe that's alright.
There's a pulse through the wall,
And it came back tonight.
[Outro – Male, quietly spoken]
Three knocks.
...
Two back.
[End – Single bass pulse, abrupt silence]