[Intro — whispered, over ambient guitars] City of halos, city of knives… hold my hand where the cameras can’t see. We walk in glitter like it’s gravity, stilettos on a wire, smiling carefully. Streetlight baptizes our borrowed names, while our real ones burn in the mouth like flames. A dressing-room mirror, a second sky, I watch myself blink and I don’t know why. The crowd is an ocean, the stage is a tide— I learn how to drown with my eyes open wide. And the radio says we’re “made of light,” but light is a mask when you wear it at night. I leave my body in the neon, send my ghost through the loudest room. If you love me, love the echo— not the secret, not the wound. We spin like planets in a rented heaven, three bright lies in the same perfume. I leave my body in the neon, and wake up human in the gloom. In the hotel hallway, midnight hums, ice machine praying with a broken tongue. We count our bruises like counting cash, laugh at the headlines, then quietly crash. My throat tastes copper, my pulse is loud, I practice innocence in a towel cloud. Somewhere a stranger is kissing a screen, falling in love with a silhouette queen. And the flashbulbs bloom like tiny suns— they never show what we’ve become. I leave my body in the neon, send my ghost through the loudest room. If you love me, love the echo— not the secret, not the wound. We spin like planets in a rented heaven, three bright lies in the same perfume. I leave my body in the neon, and wake up human in the gloom. In the arts district apartment, the sink drips time. Wigs on the chair like sleeping animals. Three toothbrushes. Three alibis. We rehearse apologies we’ll never say. Some nights I swear the truth is a door— and fame is the lock we built ourselves. If I pull the curtain, will the stars still sing? Or will silence be the only honest thing? Tell me, tell me— is the soul what you sell, or what you bring? I leave my body in the neon, send my ghost through the loudest room. If you love me, love the echo— not the secret, not the wound. We spin like planets in a rented heaven, three bright lies in the same perfume. I leave my body in the neon… and wake up human in the gloom. City of halos, city of knives… hold my hand where the cameras can’t see.
