[verse 1] I heard your voice in a room full of strangers, Soft as dust in a beam of light, Nobody turned, but something in me did, Like I’d known that sound my whole life. The song came through the ceiling slowly, Not from anywhere I could name, Just a feeling moving through the bodies, Passing hand to hand without a face. [pre-chorus] No witness, No origin, Just the tremor when it starts again. [chorus] Maybe music is a shared hallucination, Something we remember without proof, A door half-open in the dark between us, A life we almost lived our way into. Shared hallucination, Nothing held and nothing gone, Just the strange relief Of finding out the feeling wasn’t yours alone. [verse 2] Your mouth moved like you knew the ending, Though the words had never quite been said, I could feel the outline of a memory Forming where the silence used to rest. Some nights the room becomes a mirror, Some nights the mirror learns to breathe, And every face begins to carry Traces of somebody we can’t keep. [pre-chorus] No evidence, No warning, Only warmth returning through the static. [chorus] Maybe music is a shared hallucination, Something we remember without proof, A door half-open in the dark between us, A life we almost lived our way into. Shared hallucination, Nothing held and nothing gone, Just the strange relief Of finding out the feeling wasn’t yours alone. [bridge] If I made this, Why does it feel older than me. If you hear it too, Why does it arrive like a secret. If it isn’t real, Why does it stay after the sound is over. [final chorus] Maybe music is a shared hallucination, A glow that passes through and leaves a trace, A name we never had For something waiting in us anyway. Shared hallucination, No proof, no ending, no return, Only that brief light Where a stranger sings And somehow you know the words. [fade] [Soft piano. Breath in the room. Tape hiss. No resolution.]
