Empty talk in crowded rooms
The kind that fades before it blooms
Velvet static in my head
I hum along to what's unsaid

Your lips move slow like borrowed time
You say it's love, I call it line
There's a rhythm to your kind
All smoke, no flame, but well-designed

I feel the air pretending warm
I fake a smile to match the form
You touch my hand like it's a screen
So real it almost feels obscene

We talk about forever
As if it's for sale
We call it connection
But it's just detail

And I'm tired of being understood
When no one's really listening good
I'm tired of faces made of glass
They shine too bright, they never last

Velvet static, soft and clean
Nothing here is what it seems
Velvet static, fade me slow
Hold me close, then let me go

It's beautiful
How empty feels so full