📚 Every city keeps a secret... | The Nymphs Of Iron Junction #music #ailig

Link to track - THE NYMPHS OF IRON JUNCTION
https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=SYqwJ2a8w0I&si=pt9dpZb7ew3GFwVq
Podcast - THE NYMPHS OF IRON JUNCTION
https://youtu.be/H6_nAUrIB8o

Check Out the YouTube Artist Channel:
https://www.youtube.com/@AI-lig

Music available on all music streaming services

Lyrics:
THE NYMPHS OF IRON JUNCTION
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They say nobody goes there anymore
The old rail yards
The broken tracks
The rusted fences disappearing into weeds
That’s what they say…

The city grew on smoke and promises
Steel and money fed the fire
Men built fortunes from other people’s labor
And called their hunger ambition and desire
The factories faded
The profits stayed
The old rail village fell apart
Forgotten by the living
But not forgotten by the ones who watch from the dark

Because every city keeps a secret
And every secret needs a home

Down at Iron Junction
Where the tracks no longer run
The nymphs are waiting patiently
For another golden son
Another heir
Another prince
Another master of the game
Who thinks the rules were made for him
Until he learns they weren’t

Najads whisper through abandoned pipes
Dryads sleep beneath the roots
Oreads linger in collapsed stone tunnels
Watching luxury parade in expensive suits
Nereids laugh beside forgotten reservoirs
Where moonlight paints the rusted steel
They’ve seen empires rise and vanish
And know exactly how temptation feels

They know the language of ambition
Because they’ve heard it all before

Down at Iron Junction
Where the tracks no longer run
The nymphs are waiting patiently
For another chosen one
Another boy with daddy’s fortune
Another king without a throne
Who follows beauty through the darkness
And never makes it home

“Exclusive invitation.”
“Private event.”
“No cameras.”
“No questions.”
“No common people.”
Perfect.
Exactly their type.

The blacksmith works beneath the station
Hammer ringing through the night
Building elegant steel apartments
For distinguished guests of questionable delight
The cages shine like works of art
The nymphs insist on quality
After all
If you’re imprisoning arrogance
You should do it properly

Down at Iron Junction
Where the tracks no longer run
The nymphs are serving justice
One unfortunate heir at a time
Some become warnings
Some become stories
Some become examples of restraint
And every now and then
One stays
Fetching tea and learning manners

Funny thing about power
It always assumes
It cannot happen to itself

Down at Iron Junction
Where forgotten railways sleep
The guardians of old rivers
Still have promises to keep
Not angels
Not devils
Not heroes in the usual sense
Just ancient women correcting errors
In the interests of public safety

So if a beautiful stranger
Invites you somewhere private
Near the abandoned rail yards
At midnight
And her smile seems impossibly perfect…
Perhaps…
Stay home.
Or don’t.
The nymphs could always use another volunteer.