[Intro – distant, city leaking in] [windowpane hiss, one unused tuner click] [Verse 1 – half-spoken, distant mic] City static on the windowpane Your outline still burns when you leave the frame I keep the shape of your last exhale Tuned to a station that only we can play [Pre-Chorus – low lift, almost a murmur] Don’t scan for it Don’t ask it twice It won’t come through On a livelier night [Chorus – hypnotic, low, rounded and repeating] There’s a ghost frequency between us It only comes through when the talking dies Turn the volume all the way to nothing That’s when the real signal arrives [Post-Chorus – whispered into the hiss] Nothing… Then it arrives [Verse 2 – closer, smokier] Smoke writes your name across the ceiling Then erases it before I can read I don’t need the whole conversation Just the part that happens after we concede [Pre-Chorus 2 – same shape, tighter] Don’t scan for it Let the room go thin It only speaks When we let it in [Bridge – dual mono feel, spoken on the grid] Left channel: your pulse Right channel: mine When they lock— The static disappears [Breakdown / Build – held air, tuner drift] [dead air for a full bar] [pulses find each other, hiss falls away] [Final Chorus – clearer, more present, still not loud] Ghost frequency, low and clear Only audible when we’re both right here No lyrics left to hide behind Just the quiet that finally lets us near [Outro – pure static fading to silence] [signal holds, then thins] [static… then nothing]
