[Intro] Say it clean: sincerely, seriously, serenely—try, But my mouth gets messy when I’m scared you’ll buy a lie. [Verse] Resemble’s report says the numbers climbed—fraud got bold, And my dad got a call that sounded like me, cold. He almost sent money; his hands shook on the screen, I swallowed my guilt like a bad routine. We set a safe word—two silly syllables—“cantaloupe,” Now every “I love you” carries a rope of hope. [Pre-Chorus] I practice the phrase that can’t be forged: “Are you okay?” I listen for the pause where a real heart stays. [Chorus] Deepfake proof-of-love is a code we don’t resent, It’s a tiny human ritual, stubborn and meant. If the world can copy faces, let it try— It can’t copy the way you breathe before you cry. [Bridge] Tongue-twist therapy: peculiar, particular, percussive, I turn fear into rhythm, not something corrosive. Dad laughs when I say the safe word wrong, We’re healing in the outtakes of a song. [Outro] Cantaloupe—(soft) cantaloupe—(smile) We keep it simple. We keep it worthwhile.
