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