Verse 1 There you are smiling like innocence ever belonged to you. Pink hair. Soft eyes. Nothing in the picture warns me what you’d do. I was behind the camera still believing your mouth. That was my first mistake. You were already learning how to lie without looking away. Pre-Chorus Funny thing about betrayal. It rarely looks evil while it’s happening. Sometimes it looks like love. Chorus The photograph lied. It made you look faithful. Made me look safe. Made us look like something you weren’t already preparing to break. You kissed me with secrets in your teeth. Held me while the truth was rotting underneath. And I kept calling it love because betrayal doesn’t announce itself. It waits until you’ve built a home inside the knife. Verse 2 You told me I was your peace while poisoning the room. Called me your safe place while making sure I was never safe with you. That’s the part the picture doesn’t show. The messages. The excuses. The little missing pieces I was too loyal to notice. I defended you against every warning. You rewarded me by proving them right. Pre-Chorus I thought loyalty was something two people did. Turns out I was working alone. Chorus The photograph lied. It made you look faithful. Made me look safe. Made us look like something you weren’t already preparing to break. You kissed me with secrets in your teeth. Held me while the truth was rotting underneath. And I kept calling it love because betrayal doesn’t announce itself. It waits until you’ve built a home inside the knife. Bridge I don’t miss you. I miss the man who believed you. The one who thought your tears meant guilt. Who thought apologies meant change. Who kept lowering the bar until loyalty meant you came home at all. You didn’t just betray me. You made me betray myself every time I ignored what I already knew. Breakdown There you are. Still smiling. Still frozen on the 25th. Still looking innocent before I knew what you’d done. Time moved. The picture didn’t. That might be the cruelest part. Final Chorus The photograph lied. But the scars didn’t. The sleepless nights didn’t. The evidence didn’t. The version of me I had to drag out of that wreckage didn’t. You can keep that smile frozen in twenty-one. Keep pretending the camera caught the truth. It didn’t. It caught the last version of me who still believed you. Outro Five years later Facebook calls it a memory. I call it evidence.
