Soft dusk settles over Accra’s old quarter. The streetlights blink awake like tired lanterns. From a narrow balcony above the market, a warm alto cuts through the evening hum — Ofori’s voice, honeyed and familiar, weaving a story about love that lingers beyond the last refrain.
Verse 2 You braided morning into my empty cups, spoke the quiet into coffee, the fierce into my palms. There was a day I thought I lost the map to you — then your laughter folded the edges back. We danced on borrowed rooftops, gave the night a reason, traced a promise in the dust that only we could read. Ofori Amponsah ft. Kofi Nti - Atweetan
Chorus (call-and-response) Atweetan — the word still falls from my chest, Atweetan — like prayer beads slipping through my hand. Hold me in the space between now and always, sing me home when the city forgets our names. (Atweetan… atweetan…) Soft dusk settles over Accra’s old quarter
Outro (whispered) Under the same sky, we mend the small wounds; under the same streetlight, we promise again. Atweetan — and the night remembers how to hold us. Verse 2 You braided morning into my empty
Verse 1 Your footsteps echo in the courtyard of my memory, slow as rain on zinc roofs, certain as the tide. You passed with a smile that kept the night awake, and left a name that tastes like palm wine and sweet plantain. I count the hours in the shape of your laugh; even the moon leans closer to listen.